Strings
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: A no strings relationship is exactly what Draco Malfoy had in mind.  But could Hermione Granger go along with such an arrangement?
1. Chapter 1

Just a little something new from me to you. I planned to post this chapter yesterday, but after spending the morning with doctors I didn't feel like doing much of anything once I got home. Anyhow, I hope you like it. And remember - I own nothing.

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><p>Chapter 1<br>Draco Malfoy was a notorious playboy.

It was a reputation he had acquired during his days at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and now years removed from his schoolboy days, it was one that had stuck. It was better than the Death Eater moniker, which still haunted his father. Playboy was one he was fine with as it provided a constant rotation of female company. Never did he allow the same girl on his arm twice, and they were never allowed to awaken in his bed in the morning.

New Years Eve was when it all began.

Hermione Granger stood by the makeshift bar. Though she avoided imbibing, her friends seemed to have no qualms about partaking in the open bar. After ordering a ginger ale, she abandoned her post for fresh air. Fresh snow had begun to fall and she wished she had thought to bring her jacket. The beauty of the wintry weather was quickly diminished when she caught side of Ron Weasley snogging a familiar brunette.

"And now I know where my date went."

She turned around to find Draco Malfoy standing behind her. He seemed to have little concern for the sight before him, and she wondered how he could be so Ron was her ex-boyfriend, she often believed they would get back together. After all, they had broken up three times, and a month later were back together. It seemed now, though, that that may not be an option.

"Come with the Weasel?" he asked, moving down a step so they stood side by side.

Hermione shook her head. "Just a group of friends," she replied. "Harry's inside if you're bored and need someone to make fun of. If you don't mind, I'm not in the mood to fill that role for you tonight."

"I just stepped out to get some air, Granger. Don't get ahead of yourself," he said, his tone as arrogant as ever. "Not speaking to you for the rest of the night wouldn't upset me in the slightest."

"Then why are you still here?" she asked. Without giving him the chance to reply, she turned around and rejoined the party.

It wasn't until 11:55 that she saw him again. She was once again standing by the bar, watching couples dance to the loud, pounding music, when Draco approached. He ordered a tumbler of firewhiskey and downed it in one sip. He quickly ordered another, then turned to her. "I haven't seen you have a drink once tonight," he observed, sipping his second drink more slowly.

"I don't drink," she replied, refusing to look his way.

"Not one for parties either, I assume," he added. Her only response was to cross her arms over her chest and take a step to her left to put more space between them. "It's almost midnight, you know."

"Yes, I know how to tell time," she muttered just loudly enough to be heard over the racket. He stood close now, far too close. The smell of firewhiskey permeated the air around them as he breathed. "Did your parents never teach you about personal space?"

Smirking, he backed up half an inch, and raised his eyebrows as if to ask if that was better. Scoffing, she stepped away from him again, and Draco stayed in place. "Any thoughts on who you're kissing at midnight?" he asked, finishing his drink.

"Certainly not you, if that's what you were thinking," she retorted. Several strands of brown curls slipped from the elastic that held her ponytail in place. She pulled it out, letting her curls fall, before trying to fix it.

Draco tucked a few strands behind her ear and breathed against her neck. "Weasley and Astoria Greengrass are watching us," he informed her. "Care to make them jealous?"

"Not in the slightest," she replied.

But she did nothing to push him away. Draco smirked against her neck and took her hands in his. He placed them on his shoulders, then put his own hands on her hips. He swayed gently despite the thumping bass provided by the fast paced song. "Are they looking?" he asked.

Rising onto the balls of her feet, she briefly peered over Draco's shoulder to find two sets of eyes - blue and green - glared intently at them. "They're looking," she confirmed. "Care to tell me why we're doing this?"

He stood tall, his back rigid beneath her fingertips. "You don't remember her?" he asked, his eyes fixed on a point above her head. She gave no reply, though he never looked anywhere but at the clock high above her head. "Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is it's less than one minute til midnight, and I have no one to kiss."

Her hands fell from his shoulders, dropping her arms to her sides. "Oh," she said, trying to extricate herself from his hold. "You should probably find someone then."

His hold on her tightened as he smiled. "The counting has begun," he said as all around them guests began to count down from twenty. "Eighteen, seventeen..."

"Don't you dare, Malfoy," Hermione said through clenched teeth.

"Fourteen, thirteen, twelve," he continued.

She looked past his shoulder again to find that Ron continued to eye her. His neck had turned red, and it was beginning to spread to his chin, cheeks, and ears. Perhaps he was jealous, she mused. Perhaps if she allowed Draco to kiss her, Ron would make up his mind - be with her forever or break up for good.

"Eight, seven," Draco whispered in her ear. "Thinking about which hex to use on me?"

She turned her attention back to Draco, wide eyed and tight-mouthed. "No," she said breathlessly.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Around them, couples kissed, friends cheered, and hugs were shared.

But in the corner by the bar, two enemies were locked in a passionate kiss that neither had expected. Draco had planned to kiss her, but Hermione seemed to have taken charge before the countdown was complete. He held her tighter and closer as the kiss deepened and her fingers caressed the hair at the nape of his neck. So wrapped up in the kiss were they that they failed to notice that all eyes were on them.

Someone whistled, another cat-called, and Hermione pulled away. Opening her eyes slowly, it suddenly dawned on her that she had snogged Draco Malfoy in front of a room full of people. Her eyes widened and she wrenched herself away from him.

"I have to go," was the last thing she said to him before she disappeared that night.


	2. Chapter 2

I always love a positive response to the first chapter! Let's keep that up with chapter 2.

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><p>Chapter 2<br>Everyone else had gone home for the night. But one small office remained illuminated. Draco walked down the hallway toward the Department for the Care of Magical Creatures, and stopped outside the office of Hermione J. Granger. It came as no surprise that she was still working while everyone else had gone home for the night.

It had been a week since the New Year's Eve party, and he hadn't been able to get their kiss out of his head. He'd kissed many girls in his short life, but none had taken control quite like Hermione Granger had. That she had kissed him whilst completely sober confused him though. And while he had often seen her around the Ministry, she refused to acknowledge his existence. Now, though, was his chance.

Knocking on her open door, he entered and took a seat across from her desk. Stacks of folders and parchment surrounded the oblivious brunette, and she didn't look up until he cleared his throat. "Fancy meeting you here," he greeted her.

"In my office. What a coincidence," she mumbled as she reached for another folder. She continued to ignore him as she continued to read. Finally finished, she closed the folder and set it aside. "What are you still doing here?"

"You look hungry," he decided. "Are you hungry? I haven't had anything to eat since noon, and could really go for some dinner."

She pulled another file off the stack. "Good, enjoy," she replied as she opened it.

"Why so hostile, Granger?" he wondered as he leaned back in the plush, black leather chair.

Huffing, she slammed the folder shut and glared at him. "I'm working, Malfoy," she replied. "I know that's a strange, foreign concept for someone like you to grasp, but that's what's happening here. So, please, leave and let me get back to it."

With a shrug of his shoulders, he rose and made his way to the door. Before leaving though, he stopped and turned to face her. "Why did you kiss me?" he asked. "I mean, we're not friends. We've never been friends. Honestly, I half expected you to slap me and blast me halfway across the room for even touching you. But you didn't."

Sighing, she pushed away her work and shut her eyes. "I had my reasons," she replied cryptically.

"Were they the same as mine?" he asked. Her only response was to open the bottom drawer of her desk. "Because if they were, you really could do better than Weasel. If anything, good riddance to bad rubbish should be your attitude towards him."

After some fishing around, she set her purse atop the desk, shut the drawer, and stood. "You win, Malfoy," she declared tiredly. "Let's go to dinner."

Smiling triumphantly, he offered her his arm. Instead, Hermione paid it no mind and continued out until they exited the Ministry. She said nothing despite his attempts to make conversation, and even after they were seated at a small cafe, Hermione had yet to address him. Brown eyes scanned the small seating area, looking everywhere but at the blond across from her.

"If you have no intentions of speaking to me, why did you agree to dinner?" Draco asked as he buttered a slice of bread.

"I don't know," she finally said, staring down at the bread basket. "Why did you ask me to dinner?"

He looked around the cafe and noticed several sets of eyes steadfastly trained on their table. "We kissed, Granger," he replied simply. "And then you ran away."

"So you wanted closure?" she guessed, not quite believing him.

Draco shook his head, and Hermione marvelled that not one blond hair moved as his head did. "It's not closure that I'm looking for," he said, setting aside the uneaten bread. "It's..."

"Sex?" she finished for him. He had the good sense to look chagrined, but nodded anyhow. Sitting back in her chair, she considered the offer. Before her sat the boy who had sought to make her school years miserable. The taunts of "mudblood" still rang in her ears. He was a pureblood, she a muggleborn. They were oil and water; two substances that could never mix. "Why me?" she wondered.

He shrugged. "I'm single. You're single," he replied nonchalantly. "Judging by that kiss, there's definitely a spark between us. Why not see where this goes?"

"You can't even address me without using my last name," she pointed out.

Reaching across the table, Draco placed his hand over hers. "Hermione," he said as easily as if he had been saying it his entire life, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about that kiss since it happened."

She leaned forward and fixed him with a curious look. "So, you want to be my boyfriend?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "I don't _do_ relationships," he remarked. A frown turned down the corners of his lips when she pulled her hand away. "Is it so wrong that I might be attracted to you though? I want to kiss you again, Hermione. Can you honestly say you felt nothing when you kissed me?"

"I did," she admitted softly. "I just...what you're suggesting, I don't know if it's a good idea."

He reached for her hand again. "It doesn't have to be a big thing," he explained. "I know that some part of you wanted to make Weasley jealous that night. What better way is there to do that than to sleep with me?"

Hermione withdrew her hand from the table and placed both in her lap. "I think I should go," she mumbled, reaching for her purse. She fumbled with the strap before finally wrangling it onto her shoulder. Without a backward glance, she left the cafe and found a nearby alley from which to Disapparate. Returning to her flat, she showered quickly and slipped into bed. But sleep refused to come.

Draco's offer occupied her every thought. There had been a time, just after Hermione and Ron had gotten together for the second time, that she thought he was the one. And each time they broke up, she counted the days until they got back together. It had been months since Ron had come around though, and she wondered if the fourth break up was the final one. She hadn't wanted to believe it, but he had moved on, and she could do the same.

Sitting up, she pushed back the blankets and climbed out of bed. Her mind made up, she found a small piece of parchment, and sent off a note to Draco. _I'm in_, was all she had written.


	3. Chapter 3

It's cold again here in my neck of the woods. It's probably a good thing I'm not one of those people who puts away winter clothes at the first sign of warm weather. For one thing, I'm too lazy to do it. Secondly, I was still cold last week as the temperature approached 80 degrees. I wonder if eating ice cream for dinner a minimum of three nights a week has lowered my body temperature.

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><p>Chapter 3<br>Hermione was back in the cafe she had walked out of the night before, but this time it was Ginny Weasley seated across from her. The redhead, engaged to Hermione's best friend, Harry Potter, rambled on and on about wedding colors and caterers, reception halls and flowers. As the maid of honor, Hermione felt guilty for tuning her out, but her mind was on more important things.

Earlier that day, she had arrived at work to find a single red rose on her desk. Attached to it was a note, informing her that she needed to be ready by seven o'clock. It was unsigned, but she knew it was from Draco. For the rest of the morning, she had walked around with a goofy grin on her face, wondering what Draco might have planned for her.

"Hermione? Are you listening to me?" Ginny asked, snapping her fingers in front of the older witch's face.

"Yes," Hermione replied hesitantly, knowing she was caught.

Ginny raised red eyebrows skeptically. "Then what did I say?" she inquired, sitting back with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You were talking...about...dresses?" she guessed.

Rolling her eyes, Ginny shook her head. and sighed. "You've been a mile away since we sat down," she groused. "Please tell me you've met a boy, and that's the reason you're so spacey."

Despite her nonchalant shrug, Hermione couldn't hide her smile. While it was true that she could barely tolerate Draco Malfoy, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about their New Year's kiss. Soft, warm lips that molded perfectly to her own. Strong, long-fingered hands that held her safely to him. That was the Draco Malfoy she liked. And that was the Draco Malfoy who occupied her thoughts now.

"Maybe there is someone," Hermione finally said cryptically.

Disappointment forgotten, Ginny leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. "Who is he?" she asked excitedly. "Ron told me you snogged Malfoy at Cho Chang's New Year's Eve party, but I'm chalking that up to the firewhiskey. Was there someone else there? A potential love connection, perhaps? Hey, maybe he could be your date to the wedding!"

Hermione laughed. "No," was all she said.

"But you need a date," Ginny whined. "And you look so smitten over this mystery man. Just bring him."

"No," she said again, and placed her menu in front of her face. Draco Malfoy was to be a guilty, secret pleasure, not a boyfriend. He had made himself perfectly clear that his only interest was in shagging in her, and she had agreed to those terms. "How about we concentrate more on the wedding planning, and less on my potential escorts."

Hermione returned from lunch 40 minutes late and in a panic. If she worked straight through the rest of the day without interruption or breaks, she would finish on time to meet Draco, she reasoned. And so, after locking her door and putting up impenetrable noise cancelling charms, she hunkered down for a long afternoon of work.

When she finally finished, she closed the last file with a tired sigh and placed it on the pile for filing. She disabled the charms, and frowned when she heard someone knock on her door. "It's open," she called out, brows furrowed as she wondered who else would be lurking around the Ministry this late.

The door opened and in walked Draco. Hermione gasped and looked at her watch. "Yes, an hour late," he chided, taking a seat on the brown, leather sofa. He casually examined his fingernails while she hurriedly gathered her belongings to leave.

"I'm so sorry," she said when she finally ready to leave.

Draco rose from the couch, removed her purse from her shoulder and tossed it aside, and took her hands in his. He smiled softly and leaned down to brush his lips against her own. "Hi," he said after he pulled away.

"Hi," she replied.

"Ready to go?" he asked, reaching for her purse. Hermione nodded and silently followed Draco to the lifts.

It wasn't until the lift began to move that Hermione realized she had no idea what their plan was. "Where?" she asked.

Blond brows furrowed. "Where what?"

"Where are we going?" she clarified as they reached the Atrium. The place was deserted, making it easier for them to floo to their destination. "My flat," he replied. "I had ordered take away, but the you were late. It's probably gone cold now. Well, nothing a quick heating charm won't fix. Ready?"

Hermione nodded and stepped into the floo beside Draco. They stepped into a penthouse, and Hermione was nervous to brush the soot from her clothes inside. She considered carefully walking to the front door to clean herself off, but stopped when she considered that she might track the muck on his plush, white carpet. Beside her, Draco removed his outer robes and kicked off his shoes. She too removed her shoes, but it was Draco who unhook the toggle holding her cloak shut. He placed their cloaks on the rack, and rejoined her in front of the fireplace.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Her hands shook and began to feel clammy, and she cursed herself for not being more in control of the situation. "Fine," she said, hoping a smile would convince him.

Sighing, he let her go and walked to the kitchen. Not sure whether to stay in place or follow, she opted for following him. There, on the small round table, was a bag of take out containers waiting to be opened. He pulled two plates from the cabinet, then moved to the utensil drawer for forks, knives, and serving spoons. "Sit," he instructed. Hermione did as she was told and accepted the plate he handed her.

"This isn't necessary, Draco," she said when he handed her a container of fried rice.

"Sure it is," he replied, grinning wickedly. "I'm pretty sure you don't eat as often as you should. I'd hate for you to pass out from malnutrition when I'm in the middle of shagging you."

"It just seems like something a boyfriend would do," she commented, helping herself to the spread.

Draco shrugged. "Or it's something a decent human being would do," he retorted. "You may think I'm still a spoiled, little git, but I do care about other people."

Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Hermione nodded. "I know that," she murmured. "Let's eat. We'll need our strength, right?"


	4. Chapter 4

So, it seemed like there wasn't a whole lot of love for the last chapter. Fingers crossed, this one will do better. By the way, I have an afternoon of math ahead of me (don't listen to those people in high school who swear they'll never need math. I was one of them, and all I do is math.) so something to read (in the form of reviews) would be a nice distraction.

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><p>Chapter 4<br>Hermione awoke in her own bed the next morning. Infrequently used muscles ached as she rolled over and placed a pillow over her head to block out the harsh, early morning sun. The night before had been nothing like she had expected. Though she hadn't been sure what to expect, Draco was completely unlike the boy she remembered from their days at Hogwarts. He had been kind and considerate, often breaking a kiss to ensure she was comfortable.

Ron, for all of his positive attributes, had never done that. She chalked it up to inexperience at first, but he hadn't changed as the years went on. She often felt unsatisfied when they finished, and Ron had always fallen asleep soon after. The first few times they had slept together, she had stayed in Ron's bed. She expected...something afterwards, something besides her boyfriend's choked snores.

With Draco, she chose to return to her flat when they finished. It was just supposed to be stringless, meaningless sex, and that meant no staying late to cuddle or waking up beside him in the morning. He made no move to kick her out, but also gave no protest when she redressed and bade him goodbye before midnight.

Rolling onto her back, she tossed the pillow aside and stared up at her white ceiling. How long could they possibly continue on with their arrangement? Draco's escapades were well documented in witches' magazines and the less reputable daily papers. He was never seen with the same woman twice, and he made it clear that none were ever girlfriends. Perhaps he wouldn't want to see her again either.

The front door opened and closed, and footsteps approached. "You're still in bed?" Ginny balked, standing in the doorway to her bedroom. "It's noon, Mione. What are you doing lying about like this? You're not sick, are you? We're supposed to go dress shopping today."

Hermione groaned. She had forgotten that Ginny had roped her into wedding planning for a second straight day. Sighing, she tossed the blankets aside and climbed out of bed, hopeful that her friend didn't notice the grimace she wore. "Just let me get in a quick shower," she grumbled. "Help yourself to coffee."

When she entered the kitchen fifteen minutes later, Ginny was seated at the kitchen table as she stared at the open window. "There's an owl," she said, "and it won't come in."

Frowning, Hermione approached the bird, shivering as the cold air hit her. The snowy white owl willingly gave her the letter and flew away. "Must be personal," Hermione murmured as she opened the letter. Though it wasn't signed, she instantly recognized the handwriting. "Why would Ron want to meet with me?" she wondered, handing the letter to Ginny when she finished reading it.

Ginny rolled her eyes without reading it. "Because he wants you back," she replied, as if it were the most obvious statement ever uttered. "All he talks about is how the two of you are meant to be together."

Pulling a mug from the cabinet, Hermione slammed the door shut and stared at her best friend. "If he really believed that, he wouldn't have spent New Years' Eve snogging Astoria Greengrass," she retorted. "I won't be with someone who wants me one minute and some other girl the next. I'm perfectly happy being single."

"Are you? Single?" Ginny asked, playing with the handle of the coffee cup.

Hermione scoffed. "Of course I am," she replied indignantly.

Ginny held up her hands defensively. "Okay, fine. You're single. In the entire history of singledom, you are the most single person ever," she muttered. "Are you going to see him?"

"Who?"

"Ron!" Ginny said, waving the letter in the air.

She shrugged as she slowly stirred sugar into her coffee. "I don't know," she replied. "What's the point?"

Once again, Ginny rolled her eyes. "The point is he still loves you, and I know you still love him," she stated. "Have dinner with him, hear him out. I'm positive that whatever it is he has to say will make you happy."

The brunette frowned disbelievingly. As much as she wanted to be with Ron, she knew that part of her life was over. They could be friends, no more, no less. He had made it clear during their last break up that he wanted to find someone new. Now that he had done it, she was positive they were through. What could possibly be said now that hadn't been said so many times before?

"I'll think about it," she conceded, hoping it would put an end to the conversation.

But Ginny couldn't let the subject rest. "Do you not love him anymore?" she asked, once again fiddling with her coffee cup. "I mean, I honestly thought the two of you would be like Harry and me. You know, how we were friends who liked one another, and eventually everything just sort of clicked into place. I've had other boyfriends in the past, but none of them ever compared to Harry. He makes me happy all the time. When I'm sad about something, I know that he'll hold me and kiss me and tell me everything will be alright. He makes me feel safe and loved, and like I'm the only girl in the world for him. Don't you want that? Don't you think Ron can give that to you?"

Hermione leaned back in her chair, her spine straight as a pole. Never had she felt any of those feelings when she was with Ron. Theirs was a convenient relationship. After the war, everyone who survived began to pair up - Harry and Ginny, Neville and Luna, George and Angelina - and Ron was the only option available to her. He had gone with her to Australia to find her parents and reverse the memory charm. He held her as she cried so many nights from her parents' stinging words and refusals to return with her. His actions were loving, but friendly. They loved one another, but were never in love with one another.

"No," she finally said.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm procrastinating. Is anyone shocked? My performance review is coming up, and I hate doing the self-appraisal portion of it. I've actually been doing math-related tasks to put off writing my review. That's how much I don't want to do it.

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><p>Chapter 5<br>_Come over. DM_

Hermione smirked when she read the note. She wasn't some one off bimbo he never planned to see again. What was more, it was Draco who asked for round two. His owl, a small, gray bird with amber eyes, waited patiently on her windowsill for a reply. She quickly scribbled an answer beneath his message, and sent the bird off into the night. Scurrying off to the bathroom, she freshened up and applied a hint of raspberry lip gloss. She grabbed her wand, slipped on a comfortable pair of shoes, and flooed to Draco's penthouse.

She arrived just as his owl returned. Draco greeted her at the fireplace with a kiss that quickly escalated. Her arms wound around his neck as Draco held tightly to her waist. Without breaking contact with her lips, he hoisted her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. With one hand, she worked open the buttons on his shirt as Draco carried her to his bedroom.

"How was your day?" he murmured as she kissed his neck. They crashed onto the bed, Draco landing atop Hermione. "Sorry," he whispered as she laughed.

"It's fine," she replied before attacking his lips once more. Soon their clothes were haphazardly strewn about the room and they were nestled beneath the thick blankets of his bed.

An hour later, the blankets tossed from the bed, Hermione and Draco lay atop the fitted sheet. They lay side by side, sweaty and breathing laboriously. "You never...answered my question," he said between deep breaths.

"What question?" she asked, staring up at the ceiling as she blinked tiredly.

"When you came in, I asked how your day was," he replied.

"Oh," she murmured. Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She began to collect her clothing when she said, "I thought it was rhetorical."

Draco sat up and watched her nude form as she hunted for her pants. "Why would that be rhetorical?" he wondered. "Under the chair," he added when he spotted her jeans near his desk.

"It was fine," she replied nonchalantly as she redressed. When she turned back to face him, a blond eyebrow was raised. He didn't believe her. "I got a letter from Ron."

He smirked. "And?" he prodded.

She shrugged. "We're having dinner tomorrow night," she replied.

Draco nodded. "Think the two of you will get back together?" he inquired. "That's what you wanted, right? Make him jealous enough to come crawling back to you."

Hermione thought she heard just a hint of bitterness in his cool, detached tone, but ignored it. There was no way he cared about her enough to be upset that she might reconcile with Ron. There was no way he cared about her at all, she decided. "I'm not getting back together with Ron," she told him adamantly.

Draco climbed out of bed and wound his arms around her waist. Even fully dressed, Hermione could feel the warmth of his skin as he pressed against her back. "Then what are you doing with me?" he whispered, his hot breath on her ear sending a shiver down her spine.

She turned in his arms, and with a saucy smile on her lips, replied, "Having fun."

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><p>Ron was late. Ron was always late. Hermione watched the front door of The Leaky Cauldron, Ron's suggested meeting place, waiting for him to arrive. She studied a menu she had memorized long ago. Tossing it aside, she took to looking around the room. Tom stood behind the bar wiping glasses with a wet rag. A couple in the back corner stared longingly into each other's eyes before snogging. A young woman sat at the bar with a book in hand and a glass of white wine in front of her that she never touched.<p>

It was this girl Hermione focused on. She noticed, as she continued to watch her, that she would occasionally glance towards the door quite like Hermione had been doing. She wondered what book she read, who she was meeting, whether she actually absorbed the words on the page or if the book was merely a tool for distraction. Lost in thought, Hermione hadn't noticed that she was no longer alone.

"Who are you staring at?" Ron asked.

Hermione jumped. "You're late," she replied.

A deep blush rose from Ron's neck to his hairline. "Yeah, sorry," he murmured. "I was, uh, helping George out at the shop. Time flies when you're a test subject."

Never one for small talk, Hermione folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" she inquired.

"I've met someone," he told her, his smile matching the exuberant tone of his voice.

"Good for you," she replied, hoping that even the slightest trace of happiness came across in her words. "Who?"

If it were possible, Ron's blush deepened to an even brighter shade of red. "Astoria Greengrass," he replied. He said her name so dreamily that Hermione considered making sure he wasn't under a spell. She checked his pupils as best she could in the dim lighting. They seemed normal. As she studied him, Ron kept talking. "You should meet her."

"What?" she exclaimed, ending her examination. There had been so much that she hadn't heard, but that - _you should meet her_ - definitely penetrated her brain.

"Ron, what? No, you can't possibly expect me to do that," she scoffed. "I have no desire to meet her. Look, I'm happy that you've found someone. Really, I am. I'm sure she's lovely and wonderful and just..._so_ right for you. But I have absolutely no interest in meeting her."

Ron reached across the table and took her hand as she tried to leave. "I don't understand why you're reacting like this, Mione," he said, crestfallen by his best friend's angry response. "Ginny said you've moved on too. I thought, if the both of us had someone new, that things could go back to the way they were. I've missed you."

She pulled her hand away. "I've got to go," she muttered.

On her way out, she spotted the blonde at the bar who had been reading before Ron came in. The book was gone now, and next to her sat Draco Malfoy.


	6. Chapter 6

I've gotten so sucked in by _The Hunger Games_ that I've found no time to write at home. Work needs to slow down a bit so I can get some writing in when I'm here. That's what my boss had in mind when she told me to take more breaks, right?

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><p>Chapter 6<br>It was a quiet Sunday night. No owls had shown up at her window. Draco's blond head never appeared in her fireplace. It was complete radio silence. Perhaps the blonde at the bar was the new her. He was done with her, and Hermione was surprisingly fine with that. She knew their arrangement couldn't last. Draco seemed to grow tired of women after one night. She had lasted two.

"Fine, so we're done," she said to no one. Digging into the couch cushion, she found the television remote and pressed the power button. Nothing caught her attention as she rapidly flipped through the channels. Exhausting each channel, she turned off the television and tossed the remote to the other side of the couch. Sighing, she stared at the blank screen, and in it, her reflection. The dark countenance stared lifelessly at her as she stared at it. Shaking her head, she looked away and stood.

Abandoning the sofa, she decided a bath and an early bedtime were in order. Shutting off the living room lights, she made her way to the bathroom and began to fill the tub with hot water. As she undressed, she added rose and jasmine scented oils. Soapy bubbles skimmed the surface of the water as it rose to the top of the tub. She had just removed her lingerie when she heard a knock at the door.

Shutting off the water, she pulled on a robe and tied it tightly at her waist. Padding through her flat, her feet cold against the hardwood floors, she reached the front door and opened it. "Malfoy?" she asked.

"Forgot me already?" he wondered, quirking an eyebrow. "Expecting company? You certainly don't look dressed for it. Unless it's a different kind of company."

"Why are you here?" she inquired, using her front door to hide her robe clad form. "And how do you know where I live?"

He shrugged and leaned against the door jamb. "I have my ways," he replied. "Ya know, it's rude to make a guest stand in the doorway while you converse."

"I didn't invite you over," she reminded him. "And you can feel free to turn right back around and go home."

Draco smirked. "You seem mad," he observed. "Are you mad, Granger? Did Potter or Weasley do something to upset you, and you've decided to take it out on me?"

Brown eyes narrowed. "How was your date last night?" she inquired through pursed lips.

Oblivious to her anger, Draco's smirk grew. "Jealous, are you?" he asked. "And what reason could you possibly have to be jealous? This, what you and I have, is not a relationship, Granger. Clearly, you're smart enough to know that. I can go out with whomever I choose. Hell, if you want to go shag someone else, then go do it."

"Maybe I will," she retorted, standing a little bit straighter.

His eyebrows rose defiantly, willing her to accept the challenge. "Just -" he started, but stopped as his demeanor suddenly shifted.

Hermione's own eyebrows rose curiously. "Just what?" she wondered.

"Not Weasley," he grumbled.

She couldn't help the laugh she let out. He must not have heard that her ex-boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend were now a couple. Though he denied having ever had a relationship with Astoria Greengrass, it was well known throughout the wizarding community that the two were meant to be betrothed. But she wouldn't let on that she knew.

"Jealous, are you?" she asked, her smirk matching the one he had worn only seconds ago.

Draco scoffed, but averted his gaze. Staring off down the hallway, he replied, "Not in the slightest. I'm just not interested in picking up any Weasley germs just because I'm sleeping with you."

"So, then we'll just end this now," she suggested with a shrug of her shoulder. "You can continue to date around, have your endless string of one night stands, and never have to worry that you and Ron might have shagged the same girl. I'd avoid Astoria Greengrass if I were you, though."

Draco took a step back from her door. His brows knitted more and more together as he processed what she said. She was breaking things off with him. Never had a woman turned him down. Never had he been denied the woman he wanted. And some part of him still wanted Hermione Granger. She was a challenge. She didn't easily bend to his will, and he knew she would never be subservient to him. Hermione Granger would never allow a man to hold dominance over her. But he would not allow her to have the upper hand, either.

"We're not over, Granger," he informed her, his tone slightly menacing.

"We are if you insist on telling me who I can and cannot sleep with," she retorted. "I'm not your girlfriend, Malfoy. Hell, I'm thoroughly convinced you don't even see me as a friend. Perhaps it's best to put an end to this now."

He stepped closer. "Is that what you really want?" he asked. Mere inches separated them. Hermione still held onto the door as Draco attempted to push it open. When she wouldn't allow it to budge, he placed his hands on her silk covered hips. "Tell me that's what you really want."

Her hands flew to his wrists in an attempt to pry his hands from her waist. "It's what I want," she replied, her voice sounding small in her ears.

Determined to prove her wrong, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest. He asked again, and again she said yes. Slowly, he bent his head until his lips hovered over her own. "Should we end this?" he asked breathily.

"Yes," she replied once more.

His lips covered hers in a bruising, passionate kiss. Hermione gasped at the ferocity, and with her lips parted, Draco took advantage. His tongue swiped her bottom lip before tangling with hers. Her hands moved from his wrists to his chest as he continued to kiss her into breathlessness. They fisted the material of his shirt, but it was to hold him closer instead of pushing him away. When the need for oxygen claimed her, Hermione turned her head, detaching his lips.

"Do we end this now?" he whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending a chill down her spine.

With her foot, she pushed the door open wider to allow him to come through. "No," she replied.


	7. Chapter 7

There must be something about my name that confuses people. Awhile back, one of my managers started calling me Erin, which is nowhere close to my name. Today, my publisher called me Maggie during a meeting. His was a bit closer. I had no idea he was talking to me though. My name is pretty simple. Phonetic. Five letters long. It shouldn't be that hard to remember.

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><p>Chapter 7<br>Hermione awoke to find Draco asleep beside her. His arm rested possessively around her waist and his legs tangled with her own. He snored softly as he slumbered. She attempted to extricate herself from his hold, but with each move she made, Draco managed to pull her closer. She huffed. "Even in your sleep you're an obnoxious prat," she muttered.

His hold on her tightened again, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. "Stop moving," he demanded. "Just sleep."

She pried his fingers away from her bare stomach. "Some of us have to go to work this morning, Malfoy," she reminded him.

"Take the day off," he suggested, placing a trail of kisses down the length of her neck until he reached her shoulder.

She rolled over to face him, smiling despite herself when she saw his eyes were still closed. "We're breaking your rules, Malfoy," she pointed out.

"What rules?" he mumbled, kissing her slowly and softly.

She pulled away and scowled. "No sleeping over. No cuddling," she replied, counting them off on her fingers. "No having breakfast together. No sharing personal details and secrets. Basically, no doing anything a couple would do. Because we're _not_ a couple."

Draco rolled over and climbed out of her bed. "If you want me to go, I'll go," he muttered as he pulled on his pants.

"No, please, Malfoy, don't go," she muttered sarcastically as she too got out of bed.

She had just finished tying the sash on her robe when Draco rounded the bed. "You wanted this too, Granger," he reminded her, glaring angrily at the blasé brunette. "You told me not to leave last night. You fell asleep on me. Yeah, sorry, so I fell asleep too. Is it really the end of the world?"

"They're _your_ rules," she reiterated, though she had lost some of her steam.

"Which means _I_ can change them," he retorted, just as angry as he was at the start of the argument.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and quirked an eyebrow. "So, what? You want to be my boyfriend now?" she inquired.

"Don't flatter yourself, Granger," he muttered. With every step he took closer to her, Hermione backed up. He placed his hands around her wrists, and guided her back to the bed. "I have no more interest in you now than I did when we were in school."

Draco hovered above her as Hermione's back hit the mattress. "Then why bother?" she wondered.

His lips attached to her jugular while his hands fumbled with the knot she had tied in the robe's sash. Instinctively, her arms wound around his neck to hold him closer. He pulled back as much as her arms would allow. "Because we don't have to like each other to know, on some level, that we're good together," he replied. Chaste kisses dotted his jaw as he spoke in a husky whisper. "We both enjoy what we're doing, even if you do try to deny it."

"I've yet to deny it," she interrupted.

He kissed her pouting lips and smiled. "You don't tell anyone about it," he replied. "That's the same as denying it. Are you worried what your friends might think if they found out you were shagging Draco Malfoy?"

One brown eyebrow rose. "Perhaps I'm more concerned that they'll kill you, and then our time together will end," she retorted. "Now, may I please get up? I really do have to go to work."

Sighing, Draco rolled over so he was no long on top of her. After retying her robe, Hermione stood and left for the bathroom. Alone, he surveyed her minimalist bedroom. The walls and ceiling had been painted white. The furniture was a dark oak color, which contrasted the light, honey-colored wood of the hardwood floors throughout her flat. The bedspread upon which he once more lay was blue and white gingham, which matched the curtains closed over the windows. A tall bookshelf and a pale blue armchair were placed near the window.

Slipping off the bed, Draco quietly made his way to the adjoining bathroom just as Hermione started the shower. She was already behind the curtain when he hopped up onto the vanity and examined the tube of raspberry lip gloss she always wore when she was with him. Beside it sat a tube of strawberry kiwi and an unopened tube of mixed berry. He opened the raspberry and sniffed. "This smells nothing like a raspberry," he stated, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he put it down.

A head of wet curls popped out from behind the shower curtain. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded.

Draco shrugged. "Thought you'd let me hop in there with you," he replied. "What's with all the different flavors?"

Rolling her eyes, she closed the curtain again and continued her shower. "I thought you'd have left by now," she commented.

"Why do you always wear the raspberry?" he asked, dabbing the gloss wand along his bottom lip. He knew it tasted better than it smelled, having kissed it from her lips several times.

The water turned off and Hermione pushed the curtain back. Making a grab for her towel, she wrapped it around herself and stared at him incredulously. "Why are you wearing my lip gloss?" she inquired, fighting back the urge to laugh.

Draco hopped off the counter and closed the small amount of distance between them. He pressed a closed mouth kiss to her smiling lips and pulled back. "It tastes better than it smells," he replied. "So, why do I only get the raspberry?"

Hermione shrugged and pulled more of the towel around herself as she shivered. "Ron was always the strawberry kiwi," she told him. "Viktor Krum, you remember him, right? He was always vanilla bean."

"So, you categorize the men in your life by flavors," he summarized, rubbing her wet arms to provide a little more warmth.

She shrugged and looked away from him. "Sometimes it's the only way I can categorize someone," she mumbled.

Reaching behind him, he picked up the mixed berry. "And who gets this one?" he inquired.

Hermione pulled away and left the bathroom. "Someone else," she replied as she began to dress.

"Is there someone else?" Draco asked, leaning against the bathroom's door frame.

She shook her head and quietly continued to dress. There should be someone else, she thought. Draco had someone else. He probably had several someone elses. One would do, though. It was just a matter of finding him.


	8. Chapter 8

I am a huge fan of anniversaries, birthdays, holidays that involve gift giving. Today is my parents 32nd wedding anniversary. Did anyone else know that the gift for 32 years is conveyances? That's right, as in automobiles and other modes of transportation. They're getting an adorable Hot Wheels motorcycle because that's about all I'm willing to spend on their conveyance.

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><p>Chapter 8<br>Draco had invited her to his weekly poker game. Hermione didn't know why she was invited or why she went, but she entered Draco's flat half an hour after the game had begun. Pansy Parkinson had been the lone female until she arrived, and said nothing when Draco beckoned her to fill the seat beside him.

"What's the game?" Hermione asked when she was seated.

Draco draped his right arm along the back of her chair, slowly caressing her shoulder. "Hold 'em," he replied, examining his cards. "Some game Theo introduced us to."

"How do you play?" she inquired, looking at each player. The round table seated four other men - Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Marcus Flint, and Adrian Pucey. Pansy sat between Blaise and Theo, but seemed to gravitate more toward Theo.

"We don't play," Pansy informed her.

Hermione glared at Draco. "So, I get the spend the night being Fanny Brice to your Nicky Arnstein?" she balked. "I don't think so."

She pushed away from the table and was almost to the door when Draco caught up with her. "Look, I don't know who those people are," he told her when she demanded he let her leave. "I wanted you to come over because I knew we wouldn't get to spend any time together for the next few days."

"You're going somewhere?" she asked, hearing this for the first time.

Draco shrugged. "Just for business," he replied with a roll of his indifferent gray eyes. "Anyhow, I'll be gone most of the week, and figured you'd want to say goodbye properly once they clear out."

"How very..._you_ of you to think that," she muttered as she let go of the doorknob. Draco seemed hopeful that it meant she would return to the table with him. "Do I get to play?" she asked as he extended a hand to her.

He took hold of her wrist. "You can if you want to," he relented. They reclaimed their seats as another hand was dealt.

As Draco explained the rules, Pansy glowered at Hermione. On occasion, she would catch the dark green eyes of Pansy Parkinson before the pug-faced girl would look away. Hermione smirked as she leaned in closer to Draco. Any little touch they shared, every little smile they shot one another's way, when Draco sipped Hermione's water; all of these actions bothered his former housemate. And Pansy's disapproval was Hermione's pleasure.

As the night wore on and several men lost healthy amounts of money, Hermione wondered how much longer the game could last. She had grown tired as the hour approached midnight. Foregoing the next hand, she rested her head on Draco's upper arm and closed her eyes briefly.

"Don't fall asleep on me now, Sleeping Beauty," Draco murmured as he tossed a few chips toward the center of the table. "Game's not over yet."

"Then wake me when it is," she replied.

Sunlight filtered through the closed curtains in a bedroom Hermione had only ever seen at night. She was still dressed in her clothes from the night before, but her shoes had been removed. If Draco had put her to bed, why was he not there with her? Pushing back the blankets, she scooted to the edge of the king-sized bed and looked for her shoes. Finding them, she struggled down until her feet touched the floor, and she was able to pull them on. She left his room and entered the living room to find the game still going.

"Morning, Granger," Marcus Flint greeted her, the only one to look up from his cards. The game was down to him and Adrian.

"Where's Malfoy?" she asked, finding Theo and Blaise asleep on the sofa and floor respectively.

"Getting breakfast," Adrian informed her as he tossed three red chips towards the center of the table, adding to the growing pile already there.

"Did he take Pansy with him?" she wondered, taking a seat at the table.

Marcus patted the chair beside him, silently asking her to move closer. "You were such good look for Draco until he put you to bed last night. Figured I'd see if your powers worked for me," he told her when she slid into the seat beside him.

"So?" she prompted.

"Oh, Pansy, right," Marcus said, having forgotten all about the hanger on that was Pansy Parkinson. "Didn't she go home last night?" He turned to Adrian for confirmation.

"Yeah, she got a bit fed up with no one paying her any attention, so she left," Adrian said, laying his cards on to the table for his friend to see.

Marcus cheered just loud enough to wake Blaise and Theo. "Knew you'd bring me some luck," he said raking in what he said was the largest pile of the game. "I feel like I should share some of this with you."

Hermione shrugged. "Or you could just buy me a cup of coffee," she offered.

Marcus grinned widely, and for the first time she noticed that his once gnarled teeth were now straight and white. "It's a deal," he replied as Draco returned.

Draco dropped breakfast on the table and glared at Marcus. "What's a deal?" he asked.

"Me and Granger spending a little bit of time together," he replied. His arm hung comfortably across the back of Hermione's chair and she sat forward to avoid his hand touching her shoulder. She glanced quickly at Marcus, letting him know that she didn't appreciate the way he goaded Draco. With a roll of his eyes, Marcus explained that it was only coffee. "You said the two of you aren't together, so I didn't see the harm in asking her."

Draco shrugged. "Whatever," he mumbled as he pulled various pastries from the paper bag. "Eat up," he said before he walked away.

Hermione rose to leave, but Adrian shook his head and Marcus held her wrist. "Don't bother," Adrian told her as he reached for a cherry danish. "Let him cool down before you try to talk to him. Not much will get through if he's angry."

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what had angered him. Ignoring his friend's advice, she pulled her arm away from Marcus's grasp and entered the bedroom. "I thought I'd make some coffee," she told him. "Do you have any?"

"You broke the rules," he said as he stripped the sheets from his bed.

"You asked me to come," she reminded him, "for something more than sex. You put me in your bed when I fell asleep at the table. You bought breakfast. So far, I'd say you've broken more rules than me."

Tossing the last pillowcase on the floor, he turned to her with narrowed eyes. "Then go home and you won't have to worry about the rules anymore," he hissed before entering the bathroom and slamming the door shut.


	9. Chapter 9

Wow, the last chapter got a great response! I've been writing like a madwoman lately, and with one chapter to go on _Higher Education_, I may start posting a chapter daily. I haven't quite figured out my next story yet, but I have a vague idea.

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><p>Chapter 9<br>Coffee had turned into lunch, which turned into dinner plans for Friday night. Hermione had made sure to tell Draco nothing of her plans with Marcus for fear he might prevent them from actually happening. He had asked her to leave though, so perhaps she didn't need to worry about him. She wouldn't give Draco another thought. He had dated other girls. She had seen it with her own two eyes. And hadn't it been his idea that she find someone else too?

_Not Weasley._

His only request was that she not date Ron again. He had said nothing of his own friends. It had been his idea to put her in their midst, to expose her to them. And them to her, really. He had brought her into his circle of friends, left her alone with them while he left to get breakfast. Neither Marcus nor Adrian ever alluded to Draco telling them she was off limits. Therefore, she mustn't be. Marcus was fair game, and Hermione intended to pursue him.

Marcus arrived at her flat only seconds after Hermione put the finishing touches on her look. She picked up the mixed berry gloss and applied a light coating to her lips as she raced to the door. "Hi," she greeted him when she pulled open the door.

Tall and broad, Marcus cut an imposing figure. But then he smiled and the darkness seemed to fade. His dark eyes surveyed her, his smile reaching his eyes when they locked on hers. "Hi," he replied, extending his hand to her. She placed it in his and he drew it up to his lips. She couldn't help the blush that colored her cheeks. "Did you need more time, or are you ready to go now? I know I'm still a few minutes early."

She grabbed her purse from the hook behind the door and led him into the hall. "I like punctuality," she told him. "There's nothing wrong with showing up a few minutes early. My mum always said it meant the person couldn't keep his mind off of you."

"I couldn't," he admitted. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since the poker game. And when Draco said that you were single, well, I figured I had to take a chance."

"I'm glad you did," she replied.

He took her to a small outdoor cafe in Diagon Alley. A cool breeze swept the street, sending a chill down Hermione's spine. Marcus sat close enough that he barely had to stretch to put his blazer around her shoulders. It felt gentlemanly and considerate. She had felt that once with Draco, the first night they were together when he insisted on feeding her first. One good shag seemed to knock it out of him though, and she wondered if Marcus was the same way.

"What's on your mind?" he whispered, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"You," she said before she could think about it. An embarrassed blush tinted her cheeks pink, and she could feel the heat of them when Marcus cupped the side of her face in one large hand.

"Glad to hear it," he replied. After their orders had been placed and drinks arrived, he reached for her hand. "Do you think Draco will be mad?"

Hermione shrugged as she stared at their intertwined fingers. "I can never really tell with him," she admitted. "I don't think he cares what I do so long as he's not around to witness it."

"Out of sight, out of mind," Marcus added. She nodded in agreement. "You know, just after the two of you left school, he and Daphne Greengrass dated. Honestly, I think she ruined other women for him."

Brown brows furrowed as she listened to Marcus share this little known secret. "How long?" she wondered as she processed this new knowledge that Draco had once had a relationship with the older sister of his former betrothed.

"About two years," he answered. "She was supposed to marry Adrian and he was supposed to marry her little sister. But they kind of fell for one another. Not much you can do about that."

"So, what happened?" Hermione asked, thoroughly fascinated by this chunk of Draco's life of which she had no knowledge.

"She married Adrian when her parents threatened to deny her her inheritance. Broke Draco's heart," he replied. "I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this though."

Half-heartedly, she nodded in agreement. They shouldn't have been discussing Draco, not on their first date. He shouldn't have been a topic of conversation on any date, given his relationship with Hermione. But she wanted to know more. She needed to know more about Draco, and she was sure she could learn it from Marcus.

"I didn't know Adrian was married," she said casually, taking a sip of her water. "He doesn't wear a ring."

It was Marcus's turn to shrug now as he pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair. "I know what you're trying to do," he said, smirking as the blush once again rose in her cheeks. "Listen, what happened in the past is Draco's business. If you really want to know so badly, talk to him. He likes you, Hermione. If anyone's going to get him to open up about it, it'll be you."

"And here I thought you were smarter than you look," she teased. "Draco tells me nothing. It's in the 'rules'." The rules that seemed only to go one way, she added to herself.

Marcus quirked an eyebrow as their dinner is served. "Why are there rules?" he wondered, cutting off a small portion of his steak to transfer to her plate.

She smiled when he did, remembering that she had considered ordering the same dish before changing her mind. "Because rules help to keep things from getting complicated," she explained. "If we don't know the personal details of the other's life, we don't get attached. There's nothing intimate about our situation."

"And he created the rules?"

Hermione nodded, but once again failed to add Draco's inability to keep to them.

"Do they help? Are you still unattached?" There was something hopeful in his voice.

"Besides my unhealthy curiosity?" she asked. "No, I'm not attached. It could end tomorrow, and I'd be fine."

Marcus smiled. "So, I can ask you for a second date?" he inquired. "Provided this one continues to go well, that is."

"Absolutely."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
>How had she never known about the romance between Daphne Greengrass and Draco? It was a relationship kept quiet for two years, probably to the credit of their mothers. After the war, unflattering news was rarely printed about the Malfoys. It was rumored that Narcissa had the editor-in-chief of <em>The Daily Prophet<em> in her back pocket, bribing him to show the once disgraced family in only the most positive light. It explained why so little news was spread about Draco's betrothal to the youngest Greengrass sister. It was entirely through the gossip mill (Ginny) that she knew anything of it at all.

Asking Draco wasn't an option. He'd been out of town for weeks, making it much easier for her to continue seeing Marcus. He no longer seemed like the dumb brute she had judged him to be in their school days. He was eloquent and kind, funny and charming. He held her interest long after he escorted her home, and seemed to appear in her dreams every night after leaving her. There was nothing forced, nothing sexual about being with Marcus. She enjoyed herself, enjoyed him.

But didn't she enjoy her time with Draco, too?

When he was Draco, yes. When he was Malfoy, no.

His moods were hot and cold. Draco held her in the afterglow of sex. He was genuinely curious about her day. He assured her that Ron never deserved a woman like her. He fed her if she came straight to his flat from work. Draco was kind and understanding. He never pushed her to do something she wasn't comfortable doing.

Malfoy, though, was mean spirited. He reminded her of the rules she broke when she fell asleep in his bed. He was emotionless, secretive, uncaring as he slipped back into his old self. She hated Malfoy as a child, and as an adult, couldn't seem to care for him either. She hated the moment he turned from Draco to Malfoy.

Slipping on a semi-formal little black dress, she prepared herself for another evening out with Marcus. It was Theo Nott's birthday, and she was Marcus's date. In the back of her mind, she wondered if Draco would attend. Would he bring a date? He had sent a few notes while he'd been away, but not once did he mention the party. Perhaps after their last get together, Draco had decided they were done.

"Just forget him," Hermione muttered to herself as she applied a thin coat of mixed berry gloss to her lips. "You're much better off with Marcus."

Minutes later, earlier than he was supposed to arrive, Marcus knocked on the front door. With a smile on his face and a pink rose in his hand, he greeted her with a gentle, hesitant kiss. "You look beautiful," he murmured as he righted himself.

Hermione blushed as she accepted the rose. "You look pretty handsome yourself," she replied. As he led her out to the nearest Apparation point, she looked for a place to keep the flower without ruining it. Noticing her distress, Marcus took the flower, carefully broke the stem, and placed it in her curly updo.

"See? Not just a pretty face," he joked. She laughed as he Apparated them to Theo's flat. Calling it a flat seemed to do the place no justice, Hermione decided. The living room alone, furniture pushed to the side to create a dance floor, was large enough to fit her own flat plus half of the one next door. She wondered if it was done by a charm, meant to enlarge the space from inside but not out. Hermione stared at the place quizzically before Marcus confirmed her suspicions.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived. The place was crowded with people already inebriated, sweaty from dancing, and loose with their hands. Marcus placed a protective arm around Hermione's shoulders and threatened to kill the man whose hand grazed her behind. "Maybe this was a bad idea," he muttered when they reached the refreshment table.

"He's not the first guy to touch my bum," she told him, though she wasn't sure if it would help. "Besides, he didn't mean it. Let's just have fun."

And they did.

Despite Marcus's protests that he didn't dance, after a few drinks Hermione managed to persuade him to join her on the dance floor. They stood close, arms and hands and hips touching as they moved to the beat. When the crowd began to increase, Marcus led her outside for fresh air. They stood together quietly as they surveyed the few people who walked by or entered the building to join the party. Theo had charmed his flat so no noise could escape and disturb the neighbors.

It was cold, but a pleasant evening as Hermione leaned back against the hard, muscular chest of Marcus Flint. His arms wound around her waist, providing the shivering witch with a little more warmth. His breath warmed her ear as he spoke. "I think I'm falling for you, Hermione."

Slowly, she turned in his arms. Her hands rested on his chest as his heartbeat thrummed wildly beneath her palms. Had she heard him correctly? Her own heart began to pound loudly in her ears as his words played over and over in her mind. _I think I'm falling for you, Hermione._ How was she to reply to that? She wasn't sure she felt the same way.

But his lips upon her own took precedence over his confessions. He held her close and tight as his lips coaxed hers open. Hermione could feel the intensity he felt, the passion he had for this budding relationship. Her hands slid up from his chest to touch his throat and the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. Consumed by his kiss, neither heard the clear of an angry throat behind them. It was a hand yanking on her arm that finally separated them.

Opening her eyes, Hermione noticed that Marcus's eyes mirrored her confusion. Turning as his arms fell away from her waist, she gasped as Draco glared angrily at them. Marcus placed a protective hand on her hip, holding her close to him. Undeterred by Marcus's size, Draco took hold of Hermione's hand and pulled her away.

"Let's go, Granger," he muttered as he Disapparated with her by his side.


	11. Chapter 11

It didn't seem right to end on a cliffhanger and then make you all wait until Monday for the next chapter. So, I'm breaking my rule (how Draco of me!) and posting chapter 11 for you!

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><p>Chapter 11<br>Landing on solid ground, Hermione struggled to release his grip on her hand. Finally extricating it, she took several steps back as she glowered at Draco. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded, her voice shrill.

"It's called manners, Granger," he retorted. "Respectable folk don't snog in public."

"So kidnapping me seemed like the right way to teach me this lesson?" she inquired. "Honestly, Draco. I don't understand."

"I don't either!" he shouted. His fingers ran through his hair as he turned his back to her. He breathed heavily as she tentatively approached him. "This isn't working," he mumbled as her hand gingerly touched his back.

"What's not working?" she asked softly.

He stepped forward as if her touch burned. His arms dropped to his sides defeatedly, as he replied, "This. Us."

Now Hermione stepped back. Confusion replaced her anger as she tried to work out what he was saying. When he gave no further explanation, she sunk down onto the sofa and stared at him, waiting for him to face her once more. "You're mad about Marcus?" she guessed.

A mirthless laugh passed his lips. "I don't give a damn about Flint," he responded. "He's not good enough for you, but I don't give a damn about him."

"But he's your friend," she said. "Why would you say you don't care?"

Slowly, he turned to face her with a blank expression. If there was one thing Draco could do better than anyone else, it was to barricade his emotions behind a blank expression. He stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the arm of a nearby chair. Then he left the room, left her. She made no move to follow, deciding instead to await his return.

But he didn't come back.

Hermione waited, not moving, staring as far down the hall that led to his bedroom as possible. Her patience was thinning though the longer she sat there. Deciding she needed resolution, she left the living room and entered his bedroom. The lights were off, and before she could turn them on, she tripped over a shoe near the door. Her foot smarting from the contact, she used her other foot to kick it away.

The bathroom door opened, and Draco entered the bedroom with his face flushed and damp. "Oh," he said before walking past her to leave the room.

Hermione caught his arm before he could put much distance between them. "Please, Draco, don't walk away from me again," she pleaded. "Talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you."

Draco snorted. "That would be against the rules, wouldn't it," he replied, attempting to break contact with her.

"Hang the rules," she said, tightening her hold on him. "I don't care about them. You said we didn't have to be friends, that the rules helped to keep distance between us. But I can't stand here, thinking I've hurt you, and not care."

With his free hand, he pulled hers from his wrist and linked their fingers together. "They were my idea," he muttered, staring at their hands. "This whole stupid thing was my idea. I shouldn't have-"

"What?" she urged. "Shouldn't have asked me? Should have found someone you cared about even less than me?"

Draco shook his head. "I shouldn't have started to care about you," he mumbled, a blush rising in his cheeks when he realized it was said louder than he intended.

Her mouth hung open in shock. Surely she hadn't heard him correctly. Malfoy could never care for her. Draco, though, was always a different story. He said nothing, as if waiting for her to process the words he knew she heard. Finally, she closed her mouth and blinked several times. "When?" she wondered.

His shoulders rose and fell once as he mulled over her question. "The poker game," he finally decided. "You...you fell asleep on my shoulder, and Blaise teased me relentlessly for allowing it. He said that's something only a boyfriend would do. You know, let their girlfriend do that. I purposely folded the next hand even though I had great cards because all I could think about was that the noise would disturb you. So, I folded and put you to bed."

"And then we fought the next morning," she added.

Draco nodded. "Marcus _had_ to tell me that the two of you made plans," he replied. "I know I've been with other girls. I completely understood our arrangement. But knowing you were going to do to me what I've done to you...I couldn't handle it."

She smiled. "You were jealous," she pointed out. Draco scowled, but nodded. "I didn't think you'd be the one to like me first," she admitted.

"Me neither," he agreed.

They stood together in silence for a long time. Neither knew what to say next or how to proceed. Was she supposed to stay now that she had heard his confession? Or would Draco expect her to leave, too embarrassed by what she now knew? Still attached at the hands, there was little she could do, as he seemed intent on not letting her go. Perhaps that meant "stay".

She took a step closer to him and placed her hand on his side. "What do we do now?" she asked.

Draco removed her hand from his waist and held it tightly. "I can think of two things," he said. "We end this now. Completely sever ties with each other, because I honestly don't think I can be around you when I feel like this way."

Hermione frowned. "I don't like that option."

A soft chuckle passed his lips. "Okay, then option two - we try being together," he suggested. "It's been...too long since I've done anything like this. I might need some help."

"I've had some practice," Hermione replied, smiling as she wrapped his arms around her waist. Their fingers remained locked behind her back. "First things first - no shagging."

Draco balked, seemingly ready to take back all he had said. If only he had a time-turner. He began to pull away when Hermione tightened her hands around his. "You have to take me out first," she informed him. "Like on a proper date."

"You really want to do this?" he asked, unsure himself if it was what he wanted. "What about Flint? I thought you liked him."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I do like him," she told him. "And sometimes I don't know if you really like me. I think if we take it slow, this might work."

A smile crested on Draco's lips. Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "We take it slow?" he confirmed. In response, Hermione kissed him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
>Marcus was angry.<p>

The news of her relationship with Draco hadn't come from Hermione, but from Blaise. He had seen the pair as they strolled through Diagon Alley, hand in hand, after exiting a small bistro. Blaise relayed how they smiled at one another, how close Draco kept her to his side, how he kissed her every time they stopped walking. And they did that often.

Marcus paced outside of Hermione's building, attempting to rein in his temper before he went up to her flat. He needed to be calm when he spoke with her, for he wasn't sure what he might do otherwise. There was no denying that he first considered a trip to Draco's penthouse, perhaps to break his legs and bloody up his pretty face. But the rational part of his brain told him to speak to Hermione first, to get the story from her. Maybe then he would still have a chance.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he climbed the steps and entered the building with only a little bit of magic to get past the lock. His feet made no noise as he took the stairs to the third floor and made a right. Hers was the last door at the end of the long hallway. The nearer he got, the harder his heart beat. The door opened before he reached it, and he saw Hermione step out in only her bathrobe to retrieve the newspaper.

Their eyes met when she stood up straight, and she gasped. "Marcus!" she said a bit louder than necessary. "What are you doing here?"

He approached her. "Let's go inside. I'd hate to wake your neighbors," he replied. She glanced back at her flat nervously, and he knew why. "Malfoy's here, isn't he?"

"No," she said softly, pushing the door open wider to allow him to see the living room. "He stepped out for a bit. To get breakfast."

Marcus nodded. "What's going on between the two of you?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound less demanding and more inquisitive. It didn't have the desired affect as Hermione flinched. When she didn't reply, he continued. "Are we done?"

"I don't know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you with Malfoy?"

"Yes."

Marcus shook his head and reopened the front door. "Then we're done."

Hermione was behind him, desperately holding onto his arm to keep him from leaving. "Please, just let me explain," she urged, and he was sure her voice sounded like it was beginning to break.

He stopped, one hand on the doorknob, and turned to face her. He waited for her explanation, the one she needed him to hear. "Well?" he asked when she gave no indication she would continue.

She inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly, shakily. "You knew about Draco and me," was her excuse. "You knew we were...something, I don't know what, when you and I first got together."

"And I thought that ended because we were dating," he interjected angrily.

"It didn't," she replied. "He just wasn't here for it to continue. But, no, we never broke things off. The whole point of our arrangement was that we could still see other people."

Marcus pried her fingers from his arm and made a move to open the door again. "You would have made a great Slytherin, Granger," he remarked. "Got what you wanted, didn't you? Draco couldn't honestly have been stupid enough to believe you wouldn't get attached. And when you did, you needed to find a way to get him to feel the same way. I thought maybe you felt the same way for me that I did for you. Guess I'm not as smart as you gave me credit for."

The front door opened before Marcus could turn the knob. He stepped back as Draco entered with a small brown, paper bag in hand. He glanced nervously at Marcus before casting a worried look Hermione's way. "You okay?" he mouthed to her.

Marcus caught the silent question and the hesitant nod of Hermione's head. "The two of you deserve each other," he muttered. "I expected this of you, Malfoy. You've never given a damn about anyone else. But you, Hermione, I never would have thought you capable of hurting someone."

"Oh, come off it," Draco replied, fed up with his friend. "It was a couple of weeks. You barely even know her. You knew what we were doing before you asked her out. You honestly weren't naive enough to think that she'd fallen in love with you in a matter of days."

"Stop," Hermione said, placing a hand on Draco's arm. He moved closer to her side and placed his hand on her lower back. She glared at him briefly. "Give us a minute."

Though wary to leave, Draco nodded and left for her bedroom. Now alone, Hermione wrapped her arms around her waist and put space between Marcus and herself. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I thought you knew. I thought you understood what Draco and I were doing. I honestly never meant to hurt you, Marcus. You know how much I care about you."

"Do I?" he scoffed. "I know the two of you are dating now. I had to find out from someone else. Not from my friend or the girl I was dating, though. No, that would have been the right thing to do. So, what was your plan, Hermione? Date him and me at the same time? Did you figure we'd both go for that? Can you honestly tell me that you want to be with him, not me?"

She looked at the man in front of her before glancing back at her closed bedroom door. Not sure that she could answer his question, Hermione turned her gaze to the floor. "I like him, Marcus," she admitted. "I don't know why, but I do."

"And me?" he wondered.

"I like you too."

Leaning against the door, Marcus sighed. "So, where does that put us?" he wondered, following her eyes to the floor.

"I don't know."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
>After Marcus left, Hermione returned to the bedroom to find Draco waiting for her. He sat on the bed, his head against the wooden headboard behind him. Wordlessly, he moved over so he was in the center and patted the space beside him. She joined him and allowed Draco to fold his arms around her. They laid together quietly, listening to their breathing as time passed.<p>

Finally, she said, "I like being with you."

Draco sighed as he tugged on one of her curls. "I wouldn't hate you if you picked him," he told her. "He's more of a gentleman than me. He might be better for you."

"You might be right," she agreed. Her fingers toyed with the buttons of the white dress shirt he wore. He always seemed to be overdressed, but she found it comforting. It was a decidedly Draco thing to do, and she liked it. "Could be boring though."

Draco chuckled. "Haven't you had enough excitement in your life?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Not the good kind," she replied. Silence descended once more. Head on his chest, Hermione listened to the steady thump thump thump of Draco's heart. The reassuring thrum sped up as she asked, "Will you tell me about Daphne?"

His arms loosened, but Hermione held onto him. "I should go," he mumbled. Slipping away from her, he dismounted the bed and made for the door. He was halfway down the hall when she caught up with him. "Why do you know about that?" he demanded.

"Marcus told me," she replied. "I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry, Draco."

In that moment, he seemed to deflate. The anger was gone. Now he looked defeated. "How much did he tell you?" he asked.

Hermione took his hand and led him back to the bedroom. She took a seat at the foot of the bed and persuaded him to join her. "He told me she married Adrian because her parents wanted her to," she replied.

"So, then you know I was supposed to marry Astoria," he said flatly. From the corner of his eye, he saw her nod. "Daphne's nothing like her. You might not remember her. She was always really quiet, but smart and kind. I used to have these horrible nightmares during seventh year. Most of my housemates wouldn't speak to me, either because of my proximity to..._him_ or because I'd failed my task.

"I remember one night I'd fallen asleep on the sofa in the common room after I was locked out of my room," he continued. He still held Hermione's hand, and squeezed it occasionally to make sure she was still there. "I dreamed about this muggle family who'd been tortured and killed in my dining room, and woke up screaming bloody murder. When I opened my eyes, Daphne was beside the sofa stroking my cheek to calm me down. It happened night after night, and finally she started sleeping with me on the sofa."

"Did the nightmares stop?" Hermione asked.

"Most of them did," he answered. "And the ones that didn't, well, Daphne was there to calm me down."

"You loved her," she said softly.

Draco loosened his grip on her hand, but didn't let it go. "Yeah, and she loved her inheritance more than me," he replied bitterly.

Hermione wrapped her free arm around Draco's and rested her head on his shoulder. With another whispered apology, she tightened her hold on his hand. She was finally beginning to understand Draco. He'd been hurt once at the most vulnerable time in his life, and it was a burn he could not sustain a second time.

And then she thought about Ron. On again, off again for years, she often felt herself guarding her heart before it could break again. Their friendship had often been strained by clashing personalities; held together only by Harry and his need for them. Ron had often teased and insulted her, but he had been good to her too. He had a protective nature, and he could be loving when the mood struck. But she rarely felt _truly_ loved. Maybe, she thought, that was why she had agreed to Draco's no strings attached relationship.

But now, Draco wanted strings. He wanted a relationship. He wanted her.

Draco's voice roused her from her thoughts, and she realized she had been quiet for too long. "You should go back to him," he said. "To Marcus."

She pulled away, stunned. "You don't mean that," she replied, her voice a mix of shock and anger. Her hands and arms slipped away and she rose from the bed.

Draco remained seated, his eyes trained on her clenched fists. "He's better for you," he said. "He already has feelings for you. He wants a relationship."

"You did too," she reminded him.

He shook his head. "Yeah, but Marcus can give it to you," he replied, his voice soft and hopeless.

"The night of Theo's party, when you interrupted us and dragged me back to your flat, he never came after me," she told him. "Not the next day or the day after that. He never said a word about it. If he cared the way you say he does, hell even the way _he_ says he does, wouldn't he have come by to make sure I was alright?"

Draco rose to his feet. "I would have," he murmured.

"I know," she replied, smiling as she took hold of his hands. "You know I won't hurt you. You know that, right?"

"You've done it before," he said, his lips forming a hesitant smile. "As I recall, I was a sweet, innocent third year, merely standing around when you marched up and slapped me."

Hermione laughed as he pulled her closer. "Your concept of the past is slightly twisted, Malfoy," she replied. Her expression grew more serious though. "You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you now though, right? I won't do to you what Daphne did. There's no inheritance to keep us apart."

Draco nodded briefly. "That not entirely correct," he admitted, holding her tightly. "And I know you're not Daphne. But you're not the one with an inheritance or a betrothal."

"So, if you don't marry Astoria, you kiss your money goodbye?" she guessed, and received a confirming nod in reply. "And if she marries Ron?"

He shrugged. "I'm free."


	14. Chapter 14

My computer at home has pretty much died. My brother, Super IT Man, said he can fix it if I buy a new hard drive and Windows 7. Or I could buy a new computer. I should probably make up my mind sometime soon.

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><p>Chapter 14<br>"So, this entire time that you've been denying having a secret boyfriend, you've been with both Draco Malfoy and Marcus Flint?" Ginny asked. For the third time. In ten minutes.

"I wasn't _dating_ Draco," Hermione pointed out. For the third time. In ten minutes.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Right, just shagging him while dating Flint," she clarified. "That's so much better, Hermione."

Hermione pursed her lips as she eyed her friend. What exactly was Ginny insinuating? That she was some wanton woman who jumped from one guy to the next? Or was she more upset that it was two Slytherins with whom she had formed relationships?

When she said nothing, Ginny continued, "I just think you were so much better off with Ron."

"Right, and he's dating Astoria Greengrass now," Hermione replied. "Ron and I are over. He's moved on, I've moved on. Now, I think it's your turn to move on."

"How do you know that he's happy with her?" Ginny countered. "You don't know that he's moved on. You've been so wrapped up in Malfoy and then Flint and then Malfoy again that you've pretty much ignored the rest of us. We were your friends first - Ron and Harry and me. But then Malfoy makes this proposal, and you tell us nothing about it. You've missed dinners, skipped dress fittings, ignored letters that we've sent. I can't help but feel like this is all Malfoy's fault. You wouldn't pull this if you weren't palling around with Slytherins."

Hermione rose from the sofa upon which the two sat, and exited the living room for the kitchen. She was angry, and made it known as she pulled open cabinets and slammed the closed. She filled the tea kettle with water and slammed it down on the stove with more force than necessary. The metal stove grates rattled from the pressure, but Hermione ignored it.

What was wrong with Draco and Marcus? Surely, both men had changed since their days at Hogwarts. Marcus was kind and warm, protective and gentlemanly. How no other girl had claimed him for herself was a mystery. If it hadn't been for Draco's heartfelt proclamation, she would still be with Marcus.

_Draco_.

There mere mention of his name, even in her own thoughts, brought a smile to Hermione's lips. He was Marcus's polar opposite. Draco was moody and difficult, but behind closed doors he was a different man. He had shared parts of his life with her that no one else had known. He had allowed her to get close and hadn't pushed her away. For the first time in years, Draco had allowed himself to care for someone, and he had chosen her.

So, what exactly was wrong with Draco and Marcus?

"I'm a big girl, Ginny," she said the second the kitchen door swung open. "I can make my own decisions about who I date and who I befriend. Now, I apologize for being too busy for wedding planning. You know the kind of hours I work. If my performance isn't up to snuff, then perhaps you should find yourself a new maid of honor."

Squaring her shoulders, Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine, I will," she replied with a defiant quirk of her eyebrows. "And if you're so busy, maybe you shouldn't even bother to come to the wedding. I'd hate to keep you from your oh so important career."

"Fine by me!" Hermione called after her as Ginny flounced out of the kitchen for the living room fireplace. "Fine by me," she added when the sound of the activated floo quieted down.

The kettle whistled and Hermione shut off the burner, no longer in the mood for tea. Once more the floo sounded, and she was sure it was Ginny back for round two. Armed only with her anger, she exited the kitchen to give the young witch another piece of her mind. "Listen, you've said your piece-" she stopped short. "Oh, hi."

Draco's eyebrows rose questioningly, but he said nothing. After dusting himself off, he stepped closer and greeted her with a kiss. "Hi," he replied. "Something the matter? It's not Flint again, is it?"

Hermione shook her head. "Ginny," she muttered. "It would seem that the second Saturday in August is suddenly free."

Furrowed brows accompanied his response. "Did she and Potter call off the wedding?" he asked.

Again she shook her head. "I don't feel like talking about it," she decided. "Tell me something happy. What did you come over for?"

"Astoria invited me and a plus one to dinner with her and Weasley," he told her.

"You're terrible at this game," she muttered. Walking away, she returned to the kitchen and quickly reheated the tea water. Draco followed and pulled two mugs from the cabinet. "Do they know about us? I mean, Ginny knows we're more serious than we were before. But does Astoria? Or Ron?"

He set a tea bag in each cup, and as she poured the water, he retrieved the milk and sugar. "If she does, she didn't let on," he told her as he prepared her tea - a splash of milk and two lumps of sugar. "We've made the papers a few times, but the Greengrasses don't put much stock in the _Prophet_."

Hermione took her cup and leaned against the counter beside the stove while Draco took a seat at the table. "I'm sorry," she said after some time, staring into the cream colored liquid. "I shouldn't have assumed I would be your plus one."

His tea forgotten, Draco rose and removed her mug from her hand. "Why wouldn't you be my date?" he wondered. Leaning down, he let his lips briefly ghost across her own. "We're dating now. Isn't it customary for the girl you're dating to be your date to these things?"

Settled in his arms, Hermione leaned her forehead against his chest. "Ginny and I fought," she told him. "Harry and Ron will know about it soon. It might be better for you to find someone else or go alone."

She felt his lips on her temple before he whispered in her ear, "I want you."

Her vision blurred as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm losing them," she whispered. "They're all I have left, and I'm gonna lose them."

Gone were the gentle touch of Draco's hands and the sweet kisses his lips provided. Looking up, she noticed that he had taken a step back. "What are you telling me?" he asked, his tone guarded. "If being with me means losing them, you'll choose them over me?"

"Draco, I-," she stopped. He was right, and nothing she could say would make that any better.

He waited. He waited for her to continue, to refute his claim. But she said nothing as two more tears dripped down her cheeks. "Goodbye, Hermione," he finally said.


	15. Chapter 15

I'm sleepy after having a big lunch. Someone needs to patent a coffee IV. That would be very, very useful.

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><p>Chapter 15<br>It was a visit from Harry, a week later, that turned the tides. Hermione had taken to working later hours than usual, and no one had seen her outside of the Ministry. She was hunched over her desk, a quill in hand, as she read through her latest proposal. So distracted was she that Harry sat there for five minutes before making his presence known.

"Keep up these hours, and you're gonna make yourself sick," he warned her.

"I won't apologize for doing my job," she retorted, returning to her file.

"Will you apologize for ignoring me?" he asked. The quill fell from her hand as her head snapped up. "Ginny told us about the fight and her uninviting you from the wedding. You have to understand, though, the Malfoys were never good people. They were awful to the Weasleys, and Draco lived to torture you and me. We can't all suddenly decide that he should be welcomed into the fold with open arms."

"I understand that," she murmured, leaning back defeatedly in her chair. "He's not like that anymore though. Not that it matters."

Harry frowned as he adjusted his glasses. "Why doesn't it matter?" he wondered. "Look, I've talked to Ginny and Molly. You're my best friend. You were my best friend long before Ginny was my girlfriend. I told them there was no way in hell I would let you miss my wedding. You might not be the maid of honor anymore, but I still want you to be there. And if it'll make you feel more comfortable, you can bring Malfoy."

Hermione shook her head and seemed to sink deeper into her chair. "I know how stubborn Ginny can be, and I said some awful things to her. Could you tell her I'm sorry?" she asked.

Rising from the chair in front of her desk, Harry rounded the large, mahogany piece and sat on the edge. They were closer now, and he could see how hard she fought to hold back tears. "Talk to me, Hermione," he implored. "Did something happen? I can't believe you would be this upset about Ginny."

She turned her head so he could no longer see her face. She hadn't mentioned Draco once in the past week, and she wasn't sure she could do it now. The memory of him walking out of her kitchen was still too fresh. The hollowness in his voice as he said goodbye still rang in her ears. She hadn't been able to look at him, or else the image would be all she could see.

"Did something happen with Malfoy?" Harry ventured. "Did he hurt you?"

Face still turned away from him, Hermione shook her head. "Draco's never hurt me," she replied. "I, on the other hand..."

Harry rounded the chair and crouched down beside her, taking hold of her chin so she couldn't look away again. "It's over," he guessed. She nodded minutely, and Harry released his hold on her. "You broke it off?"

"I had to," she reasoned.

"Why?" he wondered.

Hermione scoffed. "Please, Harry, we both know you weren't happy when you heard about Draco and me," she replied. "The Weasleys are the least forgiving people I know, especially in a situation like this. It was either stay with Draco and lose all of you, or keep you and lose him. It's easier to lose him."

Sighing, Harry got to his feet and leaned against the edge of her desk. "No, it's not," he said. "It's clearly not been easy on you."

"I'll be fine," she insisted. "Really, Harry. It's no big deal."

But nothing she said would convince him that she wasn't hurting. Harry had known her far too long, and had learned long ago exactly how to see through the lies she told herself. He wanted to help, _needed_ to help her. Short of actually speaking to Malfoy, another plan began to form in his mind.

"What if I can promise you that you won't lose us? Me, the Weasleys, anyone else you're afraid you'll lose if you stay with Malfoy," he said. "I mean, I think it's crazy that you're worried about it at all. I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but you're it," she replied. "I haven't spoken to Ron since he told me about him and Astoria. Ginny's already decided we can't be friends anymore. At some point, she's going to make you side with her, Harry."

Harry extended his hand to her, and with pleading green eyes, urged her to take it. "I won't let that happen, Hermione," he vowed once her smaller hand was safely tucked in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze before he continued. "If you trust Malfoy, I mean really trust him, then I have no reason not to. After all we've been through, I think we deserve to be happy. Were you happy with them? The Slytherins."

It took some time, but Hermione finally nodded. She _had_ been happy with them. They were nothing like the boys she remembered them being in school. The war had had a profound effect on each of them; Draco more so than the rest. A smile briefly curled her lips as she recalled the memory of a nightmare-riddled Draco clinging to her in his sleep. A gentle touch and a soothing voice was all it took to banish them. She wondered if that was how he had approached her nightmares too.

"He's not going to want me back now," she mumbled as she attempted to extricate her hand. Harry refused to let it go as he urged her to explain. "I hurt him, Harry. I basically told him he wasn't important enough, that it didn't matter how he felt about me. After the charm was reversed on my parents and they stayed in Australia, I so desperately wanted a family. I'd lost one already, and the thought of losing another was too much to bear. So he left thinking I don't care about him."

"Talk to him," Harry urged. "Let him know that he's important to you. I'll deal with Ginny and Ron and the rest of the Weasleys. And come to family dinner on Sunday night. Molly won't leave me alone about your absence. You could bring Malfoy if you wanted. Might encourage Molly to move on from 'Hermione's pining for Ron.'"

"And also ensure it's Draco's last meal," she added.

Harry shrugged. "Like I said, I'll handle Ginny, and Ron's not coming this weekend," he replied. "Apparently the Greengrasses are going to Paris to celebrate Daphne's anniversary and Astoria's engagement."

Hermione's mouth hung open in shock. "Ron's engaged?"


	16. Chapter 16

I got quite a few reviews yesterday asking me for the next chapter. It always surprises me when people like my writing. I was kind of surprised by some people's theory that Astoria isn't engaged to Ron.

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><p>Chapter 16<br>Draco wasn't expecting company, but he got it anyway. He stared at the fireplace as the orange fire turned green, and waited for someone to step out. His wand sat uselessly atop the mantle, and he planned to leave it there. He didn't much see a need for it. Through bleary eyes, he finally focused on the woman who emerged from his hearth.

"What are you doing here?" he asked bitterly.

"Ron proposed," Hermione said softly.

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "To you?"

"I found out from Harry earlier today," she told him. "Did you know he proposed to Astoria?"

He gave a nod and shifted on the sofa so he could reach the drink he'd placed on the end table. After a long drink, the glass now empty, he put it down and resettled himself in the center. "Jealous, Granger?" he wondered, a sneer settling on his alcohol-numbed lips. "Honestly, I'd say you really dodged a bullet. Although, maybe he's _so_ important to you that you're upset by this grave loss."

It was his expression, not his words, that stung the most. She was sure he felt she deserved it - the cruel twisting of his lips, the cold, unreadable gray eyes. Perhaps she did deserve it. She had come to apologize and expected to be met by hostility, but she had hoped that her nerves would hold out a little while longer.

When she said nothing, he reached over and grabbed his glass. "Well, if you're not going to speak or leave, the least you can do is refill this," he said, bored with her.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she remained on the other side of the coffee table. "I'd prefer you be a bit more lucid," she commented. "Do you even remember what that feels like? How long have you been lying around? When was the last time you ate something, or showered for that matter?" She recognized the clothing he wore. He'd worn the same gray pants and green button down shirt to her flat a week ago.

"What could it possibly matter to you, Granger?" he wondered, sighing as he put the glass down. "Did you really come here to tell me that my betrothed is marrying your ex-boyfriend? Did you honestly think I would care? Or are you here to remind me that I'll never be enough for you? Because it won't be necessary. You made yourself perfectly clear."

The hard defense she had attempted to build up came crashing down in that moment. With small, hesitant steps, as if approaching a wild animal, Hermione neared the sofa. When he didn't protest her closeness, she took a seat, careful to keep enough space between them. "I might be a little bit jealous," she murmured. A mirthless laugh was his only reply. "Not because I wanted to marry Ron though. I'm jealous that he has a family. He's got his parents and siblings who'll be there for him whenever he needs them. He loves Astoria, and I'm okay with that because I'm sure she makes him happy. And if that went away tomorrow, he'd still have a family.

"I'm afraid, Draco," she continued. "It scares me to think that I could fall in love with you. I worry that being in a relationship is so unfamiliar to you that you won't be able to do it. There will always be a divide between you and them, and I'm not strong enough to close it. I need them because they're the only family I have left. But I need you too. You have no idea how much I need you too."

He had begun to sit up straighter as she spoke. He took in everything she said, but couldn't help but wonder why she needed him too. Never before had she spoken of her family. After all, it had been against the rules. She was so desperate to hang onto some semblance of a family that she was willing to sacrifice her relationship with him.

"Why?" he finally asked. Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. "Why do you need me?"

She released a shaky breath as she reached for his hand. Their fingers instinctively wove together, and she smiled. "You're not like Ron or Marcus," she said. "I always knew Ron would be stubborn and hotheaded at times, but he was protective. I knew he would always love me in some way, even if we weren't together. Marcus was...something of an attempt to get back at you. I did care for him, but it never felt right."

"What's your point?" he wondered.

"The way I feel about you, I never felt that way for either of them," she responded. "With Ron, after the break up, I knew I could still talk to him. I've been okay with not talking to Marcus. But you...I couldn't stop myself from thinking about you. Every time someone walked past my door at work, I hoped it was you. Every floo call I wanted it to be yours. I even thought about coming by a few times, but I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"Right, but you came to tell me about your ex's engagement," he interrupted. "That really helps your case."

She tightened her grip on his hand to show she wasn't happy with his comment. "I realized something when Harry told me about the engagement," she said. "Harry's found someone who makes him happy, and now Ron has that too. I want to be with someone who makes me happy, Draco. Sure, you annoy the hell out of me at times, and other times I've wanted to hex you. But I'm happy when I'm with you. I'm happier with you than I've been with anyone else."

He continued to examine their hands. "What about the Weasleys and Potter?" he asked. "Stay with me, you lose them. That's what you said."

"Harry promised I'd still have him," she said. "That'll be enough if it means I can have you too."

Draco sighed uncertainly. For the first time in years, he wanted a relationship. After Daphne, he was sure he would live the rest of his life flitting from woman to woman with the thought of commitment far from his mind. And then he propositioned Hermione Granger, and he knew life would never be the same again. He hadn't expected to fall in love with her, but her nonchalance seemed to have been his undoing. She had occupied his every thought since their first conversation, and he nearly regretted his no strings attached rule.

"Can you stay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The dark circles beneath his eyes suggested a week of sleepless nights.

She shifted closer until her lips reached his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Draco."


	17. Chapter 17

So, I may have been reading _Catching Fire_ when I wrote this chapter. I noticed a few Peeta-esque moments when I was editing.

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><p>Chapter 17<br>The next morning, Draco awoke to the smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee. The space beside him was cold and empty, and he wondered if the smell had wafted in from somewhere else. Climbing out of bed, he left the room to investigate. His nose led him to the kitchen where he found Hermione dressed in one of his shirts as she cracked eggs into a glass bowl.

She had been humming softly to herself, but stopped when she sensed his presence. "I was worried that you hadn't been eating right...or at all lately," she excused, magicking a whisk to combine the eggs. "I hope you don't mind."

He advanced on her, smiling as he kissed her. "Not at all," he murmured, stealing one more kiss. "What time is it?"

"A bit after eight," she replied as she transferred the eggs to a fry pan on the stove. "You should have slept in. You looked pretty exhausted last night."

He wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder as he yawned. "The bed got cold," he groused. "I had a nightmare too."

She set the eggs to cook on their own and turned in his arms. It was one of his nightmares that had woken her and refused to let her fall back to sleep. He rarely spoke of them, and Hermione was usually happy for that. She had enough of her own without adding his. "Do they happen a lot?" she asked.

He nodded briefly. "They usually go away when you're here though," he replied. "But this one I couldn't seem to shake. Do you think they'll ever go away completely?"

"No," she said, turning back to their breakfast. The downside to cooking with magic was that it was done too soon, taking with it the distraction she had hoped for. The burners shut themselves off and the foot plated itself. Hermione pulled out of his arms and took a seat at the small breakfast nook.

It was only after she shot him a questioning look that he joined her. "Did I say something wrong?" he wondered as she shoveled down her breakfast.

Slowly, she set her fork aside and swallowed. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just the, um, nightmares. I can't handle my own sometimes. I don't like talking about them, but if it helps you, I'll listen."

"It was about you," was all he said. "About losing you."

Hermione moved to sit on the bench beside him and wrapped her arms around him as best she could. "I'm not going anywhere," she told him.

Draco held onto the arm wrapped around the front of his neck and pressed a kiss to the soft flesh. He wanted to point out that she had said that once before and then had broken things off with him. Because of her, he had spent a week drinking alone in his flat in hopes of forgetting that he ever cared for her. But she was back now, and maybe this time she would keep her promise.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. Her arms slackened and she pulled back. Brown eyes were intensely focused on him, filled with concern and curiosity. "I shouldn't have walked out that day. I should have stayed, should have listened to what you had to say. Instead, I ran like the coward I've always been. You were right when you said this is scary."

"I could have gone after you," she replied, kissing his cheek. "You're not the only coward here."

"Yeah, but you came back," he said bitterly. He knew he never would have gone back to her.

She picked up his fork and speared a chunk of scrambled eggs. Lifting the fork to his mouth, she waited patiently for him to open it and accept the offering. "I was afraid that if I didn't, I'd never see you again," she admitted. "I cried the other night over that...stupid raspberry lip gloss."

He took the fork from her and copied her actions. "Do you still have it?" he asked.

Swallowing, she nodded. "It was really all I had left of you," she confessed as her cheeks turned pink. Grabbing a strip of bacon, she chewed it slowly as she waited for him to say something.

"When did you realize it?" he wondered. "When did you realize that you'd gotten attached too?"

There was no hesitation when she answered, "It started the first time you woke up in my bed. You wore my lip gloss. I tried to ignore it because I knew I wasn't supposed to get attached, but that's when it started."

They continued to eat now from their own plates; hands clasped together on the table. Draco finished first and put down his fork. "I lied to you," he said suddenly.

Hermione choked as her last mouthful of breakfast went down wrong. "Excuse me?" she asked, coughing.

"It wasn't during the poker game," he told her. "I started caring about you that first night. I've never fed another woman dinner if I only intended to shag her. But after that lunch we had, I was gone. There was no way I couldn't get attached to you."

"But we had always hated each other," she replied, shocked by his confession.

Draco chuckled. "Believe me, I tried to suppress any positive feelings I had toward you," he said. "I thought if I could just shag you, I'd be proving to myself that I could have any woman. And after I did, I couldn't stop myself from wanting to see you again and again and again. You didn't slip something into my food when I wasn't looking, right?"

She shook her head. "I was too nervous to even think of doing such a thing," she replied. "We were supposed to be making other people jealous, you recall. I think we only managed to make one another jealous though."

"I remember being jealous, but you?" he wondered.

Hermione nodded. "The blonde at the bar," she said. By the look on his face, he seemed to be recalling that girl. He sat quietly beside her, his expression puzzled, as he continued to hold Hermione's hand. "You don't remember her?"

Draco shrugged. "I can't remember her name," he replied. "I remember that night. You were with Weasley, and it made me mad. She was boring and had this dull, dull voice. And I kept looking over at you until you left."

"What did you do then?" she wondered.

"Paid the tab and went home."

She quirked an eyebrow, incredulous to believe his account of that night. "So you didn't sleep with her?" Draco shook his head. "Didn't even kiss her?"

Draco shrugged. "Sure,once," he replied. He leaned in close and whispered, "It was something like this." Then he pressed his lips to her cheek. When he pulled back, his eyes seemed to ask her the same question.

She thought back on her brief relationship with Marcus. They had gotten close during the short weeks they'd spent together, but Marcus had always been cautious. Though never hesitant to kiss her, it was he who put the brakes on going farther. It had angered her at the time (was she not good enough for him?), but she felt relieved that she could honestly tell Draco that nothing happened.

Draco chuckled. "Seems like neither one of us was very good at the open aspect of our relationship," he said. "I'm glad though."

"Me too," Hermione replied, kissing him.


	18. Chapter 18

So, all the stuff I need to get my computer fixed is with my brother. Ya know what he hasn't asked for yet? The computer. To do the fixing. I wonder how hard it is to replace a hard drive. Better question - I wonder where the hard drive is located. Perhaps I should just stick to bribing him to fix it.

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><p>Chapter 18<br>"You can't be serious," Ginny muttered when two new guests arrived at her brother's engagement party. "Why did you even invite her?"

Harry rolled his shoulders, knowing he was in for a long night. "I invited Hermione because she's my friend, and she's Ron's friend too," he replied, steeling himself for an argument.

"Oh please, they aren't friends," the redhead scoffed. "She's no more Ron's friend than she is ours."

"She's still _my_ friend," Harry said defiantly before he walked away. Hermione and Draco stood near the entrance, hands nervously clenched between them. Harry smiled when he caught Hermione's eye, and increased his gait. "I'm glad you could make it. We missed you at dinner last week," he whispered, hugging her despite the fact that Malfoy still held her hand.

"Will Ginny continue to glare at us like that all night?" she wondered, exhausted by the thought.

Harry shrugged. "Probably," he replied with a humorous smile. "Just ignore her. There are plenty of other people here who will be happy to see you. And, Malfoy, we've got plenty of your old school mates here so you won't feel too lonely when someone steals Mione away from you."

Draco looked around the reception hall paid for, most likely, by Astoria's parents. It was lavishly decorated in soft purple and ivory, and the buffet table stretched the entire length of the room. No expense had been spared for the youngest Greengrass despite what had to be disapproval for the broken betrothal. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Daphne alone at the bar.

The timing was almost too perfect for him to slip away when Neville Longbottom nervously approached them. "Get you a drink?" Draco asked Hermione after shaking his former classmate's hand. She gave him her order and returned her attention to Neville as Draco made his way to the bar. Daphne leaned against the bar looking more bored than anyone else. "Having fun?" he asked after placing Hermione's and his orders.

"Tons," she replied, her voice montone and her green eyes rolling. "I honestly believe they like her better."

Draco furrowed his brow. "Who likes whom better?"

Again she rolled her eyes petulantly. "My parents. Like Astoria. Better," she said slowly so he would fully absorb her words.

"That can't be true," Draco decided. "You got better grades. You never broke the rules. You married who they wanted you to marry."

Daphne studied the rings on her left hand. "And my sister is marrying the man she loves," she muttered. "She's getting her full inheritance too. Convinced them that Weasley's too poor for them to live without it."

Draco gritted his teeth to keep from pointing out that she hadn't needed her inheritance if she had married him. "Haven't seen the happy couple around," he commented, deciding to look anywhere but at her.

"I didn't think you'd notice anyone but Granger," she retorted.

Draco found his girlfriend in the crowd and smiled when she caught him looking. "She reminds me of you," he confided. "Except she doesn't care about money."

"I thought I was doing what was best for my family," she said, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "You were betrothed to my sister, and I didn't want to take that away from her. How was I supposed to know she would fall for Weasley? I thought she would marry you."

"And then I could live the rest of my life in an unhappy marriage with you as my sister-in-law," he muttered. "That's exactly how I hoped my life would turn out."

Daphne sighed and shifted closer to him. "Adrian said you were really happy with Granger," she said.

He nodded. "I am," he confirmed. "I haven't felt this way about another woman since you. In fact, I...I think I'm happier with her. I just don't understand why you did it. You wouldn't have needed your inheritance. Not with mine."

Flagging the bartender, Daphne ordered another drink and awaited its delivery. Once the glass was in hand, she downed the contents quickly before resuming the conversation. "We wouldn't have had your inheritance either," she pointed out. "You were supposed to marry Astoria or you lost your inheritance. Same goes for Adrian and me. You and I, we didn't grow up in families where money was a necessity. We had easy-going lives because of that money. There was no way either one of us could have started from scratch.

"And now with my sister getting married to someone else, you're free to be with whomever you choose, Draco," she continued.

Once more, his eyes locked on Hermione. "Are you happy?" he asked. "With Adrian?"

Daphne smiled briefly. "Yeah, I am," she replied. "It was hard at first, knowing we didn't love each other. It's gotten easier though. Who knows, one day I just might love him."

Hermione now made her way towards them, and Draco smiled as she neared. "I hope so, Daph," he told her. He placed a kiss on her cheek before Hermione reached them.

"Hold on to him, Granger," Daphne advised. "I think he's a keeper."

When Daphne was out of earshot, Hermione wound her arms around Draco's waist and asked, "Good talk?"

Draco handed her a drink and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Not bad," he replied. "Apparently I'm a keeper."

Despite the roll of her eyes, Hermione laughed. "Well, there will be no living with you now," she lamented.

And with those words, an idea began to form in Draco's mind. "Move in with me," he suggested.

"You're crazy," she replied, dismissing him as foolish.

"I'm dead serious, Hermione," he stated, pulling her around so that she stood in front of him. And the look in his eyes confirmed it.

Hermione shook her head. "We can't do that," she insisted. "_I_ can't do that. And I don't think this is the place to discuss it."

Taking her by the arm, Draco led her outside. Making sure no one else was around, he asked, "Why can't you do it? You spend every night at my flat as it is. In the last month, you've slept alone at your place, what, twice?"

Inhaling, Hermione slowly released her breath as she steeled herself. "Ron and I planned to move in together, and then he broke up with me," she explained. "I won't live with someone without some kind of commitment."

"You mean marriage," he assumed. She didn't need to confirm; her silence was the only answer he needed. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm not ready for that yet."


	19. Chapter 19

Don't you hate those days when your reconstructed elbow locks up and it hurts to move it? No, that's just me? Alright then.

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><p>Chapter 19<br>Hermione sat nervously, fiddling with her fingers, as she awaited her lunch companion's arrival. It probably wasn't right that she invited Marcus to lunch, but after her conversation with Draco at the engagement party, he was the only person to whom she could talk. Her heart hammered harder and harder in her chest as he approached and sat down at her table.

"Finally come to your senses and dump him?" was the first thing Marcus asked as he fanned his white, cloth napkin across his lap.

"Actually, I think he's broken up with me," she replied, staring down at her silverware.

"Why?" he wondered.

She fingered the rounded edge of her fork and sighed. "Because I won't move in with him," she said.

Marcus chuckled and shook his head. "You didn't honestly believe Draco could be in a relationship," he muttered. "Don't you see that his asking you to move in was really his way of getting out?"

"That makes no sense," she said, furrowing her brows.

Leaning back in his chair, Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. "Come on, Hermione. You're smarter than this," he chided. Was he really suggesting that Draco intended to break up with her all along?

"And what would he have done if I'd said yes?" she demanded. "Surely if his plan was to break up with me, he wouldn't have asked me to move in."

"He knew you'd say no," Marcus replied, looking around to make sure their conversation didn't disturb the other patrons. "Why _would_ you say yes? You've been together only a handful of months, and most of that time was spent screwing each other. He had to know that you'd figure out things were moving too fast in too short a time."

She _had_ thought things had moved too quickly, but it hadn't bothered her. It wasn't until Draco had proposed living together that she realized the suddenness of it all. But she hadn't wanted their time together to end. She was sure he hadn't either.

"When was the last time you talked to him?" Marcus asked, sighing as he willingly got more involved than he wanted to be.

"Last week," she replied. "When he asked."

Marcus sighed and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Why did you call me, Hermione?" he wondered. The question had been gnawing at him since the early morning when he had received her owl. "I mean, you have plenty of other friends you could talk to about this. Maybe the Weasley girl or someone would be more helpful."

Shaking her head, Hermione leaned forward and placed her hand on his arm. "None that know both Draco and me the way you do," she replied with a sad smile. "I don't know that you'll ever believe how sorry I am for the way things turned out. I've missed talking to you these last few weeks."

"I have too," he admitted, taking hold of her hand. "I knew you were with Draco when we started dating. I just hoped I was enough for you. Were you just waiting for him to realize that you deserved more than he was willing to give you?"

"I didn't know it was what I wanted," she confessed. "I knew I was mad at Ron for moving on, and maybe Draco was right. Maybe I wanted to make him jealous or angry by being with Draco. He never cared though when he found out.

"And then Draco told me he wanted to be with me," she continued. "I don't know. There's something kind of heady about your former enemy declaring his feelings for you. Suddenly, I felt so wrapped up in him and making us work that I forgot about other things. Like you."

Marcus nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze; one that said she was nearly forgiven. He was a fool for it, and he knew it. But there was something about this girl, something genuine and caring, and it seemed impossible that he be able to stay mad at her forever. Even if it was just as friends, he wanted to have a place in her life.

"Do you remember that day?" she asked. "You asked me where we stood, and I said I didn't know. I can't stop thinking about that. I want to be able to answer your question, and I haven't been able to."

"How come?" he asked, dark eyebrows knitting together to wrinkle his forehead.

She looked away, looking at the pedestrians who passed them. "Because you didn't come after me that night," she mumbled. Without looking at him, she knew he had pulled away. But still she didn't face him.

Marcus sighed in frustration. "What do you want me to say?" he asked. "Yeah, I should have. Draco was angry and I should have come after you. But I didn't. Because even though I've seen what happens when he doesn't get his way, I knew he wasn't going to hurt you. That no matter how mad he gets at you, you're still safe with him."

"And I'm not with you?" she asked.

The sound of the chair scraping across cobblestone caused her to finally return her full attention to him. "Sure, Hermione, you would have been safe with me," he replied, fighting back annoyance. "But you didn't want me. You chose Draco. You picked him and cast me aside because you didn't need me anymore. And when Draco runs out on you, you come running back to me. Is that really fair to me, Hermione?"

"No, it's not," she agreed. "I'm sorry, Marcus. I did choose Draco, but that didn't mean I wanted to lose you."

Marcus rose from his chair. "It's him or me," he replied. "As much as I'd like to be friends, I don't know that I can. Not right now."

He started to walk away, but Hermione followed. "I don't want to choose between the two of you," she said, trailing him.

He stopped walking and turned back to face her. "Go back to him," he instructed. "You and I...we'll be okay one day." Leaning down, he kissed her cheek before walking away.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
>For three days, the rain had been relentless. Draco stared out his front window, wondering when it would stop. More importantly, he wondered when Hermione would return. It had been a week and a half since the engagement party, and he had yet to hear from her. Had they broken up? Were they really over? She hadn't said they were, and he certainly didn't want them to be.<p>

He'd tried calling her over the floo, even attempted once to visit, but she had blocked him. His owls always returned unopened. After a failed visit to the Ministry to talk to her, he had given up. Perhaps she would seek him out, Draco told himself. But she hadn't. Marcus had mentioned that they had lunch together only days earlier, and the jealousy he had once felt toward the man returned.

Deciding he could no longer sit still, Draco got to his feet. Grabbing a coat, he ventured out into the rain, hoping it would help clear his mind. He would walk, letting his feet take him wherever they may. By the time he rounded the corner, he was soaked through. But he pushed on, walking a few more blocks before his teeth began to chatter from the bone numbing cold. What he hadn't realized until he stopped was that his feet had led him to Hermione. She was seated on the front steps, drenched from the wicked weather and shivering.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" he demanded, racing up the steps to pull her out of the rain.

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she stared at him with wide eyes. "I forgot my keys," she mumbled through chattering teeth.

"And your wand?" he added. She nodded. Looking around to make sure no one saw him, he pulled his wand from his sleeve and unlocked the front door. She clung to his side, soaking his cloak, as he led her to her flat. He started a fire in the hearth and magicked her clothes dry.

"Why did you come here?" she asked as he draped a blanket around her.

"I don't know," was his honest reply. "I just started walking."

Hermione nodded, running a hand over her wet hair. "I needed out too," she murmured, staring at the fire. She opened the blanket; a silent invitation to join her.

They sat in silence, both relishing the feeling of the other beside them once more. Slipping her arm through his, Hermione placed her head on his shoulder and sighed. "Are we over?" she asked, her voice small.

Draco maneuvered his arm out of her hold and shifted away from her in the confines of the blanket around them. "Do you want us to be?" he wondered.

"No," she replied.

The pained look in her eyes was pure and sincere, but he tried to ignore it. "Then why haven't I spoken to you in over a week?" he asked. "Why was I cut off from your floo? Why were my letters ignored? Why is this the first time I'm seeing you if we weren't over?"

Hermione held her corner of the blanket closer as she fought off another chill. "I thought we broke up when I said I couldn't live with you," she told him. "And then Marcus said-"

"Oh, Marcus said," he interrupted, his ire getting the better of him. "Tried going back to him? What did he have to say on the matter?"

With a deep inhale, she continued, "He said you did it on purpose," she replied. "That asking me to move in with you was your way of breaking up with me."

Tossing the blanket aside, Draco got to his feet. "That's ridiculous," he muttered as he walked out of the living room. When she finally dared to follow him, she found him in the kitchen waiting for the tea kettle to boil. Spotting her by the door, his anger renewed. "I asked you to live with me because I wanted to be with you. I get it that you wanted some kind of grander commitment, but that's all I can offer you right now. Maybe one day I'll propose, but I can't just yet. I thought you understood that. I thought you wanted to be with me too, but one little word from Marcus and that's done. It just hurts that you trust him more than me."

She moved closer, but still kept a bit of distance between them. "I did...do understand," she told him. "It took a lot of guts to ask me what you did."

"And yet you still broke things off," he grumbled, shutting off the stove when the teapot whistled.

Again, she chanced moving closer until only inches separated them. "I didn't mean to," she said. "And I'm sorry for listening to Marcus. You're all I've thought about this past week. I don't want it to be over, Draco. Really, I don't."

Tea water forgotten, he closed the space between them. A smile crested on his lips when she shivered lightly, and rubbed her arms for warmth. "I shouldn't have asked you to move in," he admitted. "I told you I wasn't good at relationships. Living together seemed like a natural next step though. Maybe it would have been better if I waited. Give you more time to see that I'm not who I used to be."

Her small hands cupped his face and she smiled. "I already knew that," she told him. "I've known for awhile that you're not that boy anymore. Why do you think I stayed as long as I did?"

Draco sighed, and allowed her to kiss him. "So, what do we do now?" he wondered.

Hermione considered this. "There are two options I can think of," she stated, moving her hands from his cheeks to his neck. "One - we break up for good. It seems we want different things, things neither of us wants to give the other."

"I don't like that option," he groused, recalling a similar conversation they had had months earlier.

She smiled. "Two - we stay together and work it out," she continued. "We don't have to move in together right away. We can take our time. We can still have our sleepovers. When the time is right for the both of us, we'll take the next step. Together."

Smiling, he kissed her for the first time in a week and a half. "I'm a fan of option two," he told her.


	21. Epilogue

And this is the end. Thanks to everyone who stuck with me!

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><p>Epilogue<br>They skipped the wedding.

Lying on a beach in Fiji, Hermione remembered that today her dear friend Ron was getting married to the woman Draco was meant to marry. Squinting against the strong rays of the sun, she laughed as she watched him play in the surf. As he ran back toward her, a smile on his face, Hermione laid back on her towel and waited for him.

Dripping wet, Draco stood over her and shook his blond locks to rid them of the salty ocean water. "You're nose is getting red," he observed, moving to lie down next to her.

"So is your back," she replied with a frown. "I'll take care of it when we get back to the room."

"Should we go in now?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated, suggestive manner. With a roll of her eyes and a smile on her lips, she agreed. Draco jumped to his feet and helped her up before gathering their belongings. Side by side, they walked back to the hotel just up the beach. She couldn't help the smile that lit her face as they passed an older couple and overheard the woman mutter "Must be newlyweds."

She took the sandy towels from his left hand and slipped her hand into his. She could feel the warm platinum band of his wedding ring press against her fingers. The woman was right - they were newlyweds. Three months after their reunion on that rainy summer night, Draco again asked her to live with him. A week later, with Harry and Adrian's help, her belongings were moved from her flat to his penthouse. But Draco wasn't happy. She offered to move out, to let things go back to the way they had been before the move. Memories of their last break up were still too fresh in her mind, and she had hoped the suggestion would improve his mood. It hadn't though, and Hermione was at a loss for what to do.

Then, one night while she washed the dishes, he placed a black, velvet jewelry box on the counter beside her. The small box was open, and she could see the delicate platinum and diamond engagement ring safely tucked inside. No words were exchanged as he removed her left hand from the soapy water. He looked to her for confirmation that what he was doing was what she wanted. He removed the glove from her hand and placed it aside. Once more he looked at her and received a small nod as tears clouded her eyes. He removed the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. When it finally sat in its rightful place at the base of her finger, Draco pulled her to him and kissed her.

"Did I do it right?" he had asked.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "It was perfect."

There were some who disapproved of their fast paced relationship. Ginny still refused to speak to her, and her engagement to Harry was nearly called off when the couple disagreed about supporting Hermione. Marcus hadn't spoken to either of them since they got back together. Ron and Astoria had been too busy planning their own wedding to lend the couple any support.

A week before Ron and Astoria planned to marry, Draco suggested they elope. Hermione, who had spent months agonizing over wedding details with little help, quickly agreed. The night before New Years' Eve, Draco arranged a small ceremony in front of a justice of the peace. Adrian and Daphne had come to bear witness, and surprised them with a honeymoon in Fiji.

And so they had missed the wedding. Draco hadn't been heartbroken. It was he who argued vehemently against going. Eventually he brought her around to his way of thinking, and she agreed it would be best if they didn't attend their exes' wedding. The next day they arrived in the tropical paradise, and all the goings on back home were forgotten.

Draco led her into the hotel. "It's funny, isn't it," he mused as they stepped into the elevator. "A year ago we hated each other."

"A year ago you kissed me," she replied. "I don't think you ever really hated me."

"Well, there have been a few times over the years when I was less than fond of you," he remarked, receiving an elbow to his ribs. "But I'm glad I get to be with you now."

"Me too," she said, accepting his kiss. The elevator dinged when they reached their floor and the doors opened to allow them to exit. Silently, they walked to their room and entered. Dropping the bag he held, Draco pinned her to the door once it was closed and showed his wife just how happy he was to be with her. His hand skimmed her bare stomach as he reached around to hold her close. "Do you think we should have gone?" she asked, pulling away from his hungry lips.

Groaning, he dropped his head. "No," he replied before placing a trail of kisses along her throat.

"If you think about it," she said, moving her head as Draco shifted to the other side of her neck, "they're kind of responsible for us being together."

Draco pulled away and smiled at her. "That Gryffindor loyalty of yours rears its ugly head at the most inopportune times," he joked. Receiving a scowl as she tried to push him away, Draco quickly sobered. "I think it would have been weird to go. He's your ex. She was the girl I was supposed to marry. It's better this way. You and me, together and happy. I don't need anyone else. Only you."

Pulling him back into her arms, she smiled at him. "You're it for me too," she told him. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied. "Always will."

The End.


End file.
